The Calm Before the Storm
by Snidgetlass
Summary: Strange things begin happening at Hogwarts Minerva McGonagall's sixth year and a mystery begins to unfold before her eyes. Unfortunately, her conflicted feelings regarding Tom Riddle force her to make a decision she never thought she would have to make.
1. The Fight

I almost couldn't bring myself to post a story before the Deathly Hallows, comes out, but I figure that this one probably won't become AU. You obviously know the outcome to this, but I am going to do my best to create a story that is as true to the canon as I can make it. I'm going to really work on characterization, but obviously the characters will be slightly different because they're fifty years younger. For those of you wondering about Year of the Grim, I was really frustrated because of everything that was thrown of by HBP and I pulled it, for now. I may repost it and finish it, but I hate writing fics in an AU. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. This chapter is pretty short, but the rest of them should be longer. Please review. I'd like to have your input.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters and settings in the fic.

* * *

**The Fight**

* * *

She sat in the Gryffindor common room, anxiously awaiting her ten o'clock rounds. She was still unaccustomed to staying up later than eight and she felt her eyes drooping slightly. Glancing at her watch, she finally rose with her wand and a book. She slipped through the Gryffindor portrait hole and walked cautiously down the seventh floor hallway. A slight movement at the corner of her eye startled her. 

"Lumos," she whispered, almost afraid of the result. Her wand burst to light. A small mouse scurried out from the shadows and across her path. She laughed slightly, berating herself for her jumpiness.

She strolled almost carelessly down the stairs, wondering if she would run into any other prefects on rounds, but the castle was still. The Great Hall was deserted, as well as the Entrance Hall, so she began making her way back upstairs. She entered the trophy room on the third floor, only to stop short. Someone, or something was standing with its back to her. It wore a long dark cloak and held at its side. She felt a chill crawl down her spine as the figure turned to face her. It stepped forward and the light hit its face just so she could make out that it was a man.

Seeing her, he laughed coldly and held out his hand. Her wand dimmed to black. Without thinking, she turned and ran up the stairs. He followed closely behind in hot pursuit.

She quickly leaped to a moving stairway and caught it as it shifted to the fourth floor, while the figure was forced to wait for its return. Hoping that she had lost him, she continued down the hall.

She dashed into the library and quickly made her way to the far side of the bookcases in an attempt to remain unseen. Rows and rows of shelves stood before her. She hurried along, her heels thudding quietly against the magically muted marble floor. She glanced furtively over her shoulder once - then again. He was here and he was watching her. She could feel it.

Her brisk run turned into a sprint as she neared the restricted section. She fumbled with the clasp on the partition, only to forsake her attempt and jumped over it. She could hear footsteps coming closer and closer. It was only a matter of time before he caught up.

Despite her urge to cry out in fear, she kept silent knowing it would do her no good. He was too close now. As she rounded the last corner of the restricted section, almost safe within her hiding place, she looked back. The shadow of a man, wand extended, reached towards her. She gasped slightly and reached blindly for the secret passage she had discovered the year before. A eerie hush fell over the entire library as the figure approached. Her eyes opened in terror as he pulled down his black hood, revealing his face. A flash of green light. Darkness.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall woke up in a cold sweat to find herself sprawled out on a couch in the Gryffindor common room. Quickly gathering in her surroundings, she sprang up and looked at her watch. Ten-fifteen! She was fifteen minutes late. She grabbed her wand and hurried out the portrait hole. Tom Riddle stood opposite the wall holding his wand in his hand and looking exceedingly displeased. 

"Some of us have more to aspire for than prefect's duties, Minerva. We can't all afford to give up fifteen minutes of our lives while our partners prepare needlessly for mundane responsibilities."

Minerva glared and stalked ahead of him. Tom's eyes glistened at her reaction and he followed happily behind.

"What? No witty retort? No quick repartee? Really Minnie, I'm disappointed in you."

Minerva shrugged off the fact that he just called her Minnie, and continued on. She was tired of arguing with him and wanted to get through with her duties as soon as possible, without another unnecessary altercation.

"I bet _Albus_ would be disappointed in you as well."

Minerva's wand was instantly at his throat as she thrust him against the wall.

"What is that supposed to mean, Riddle?" she growled angrily.

Tom, unfazed, replied lazily, "You tell me."

Minerva gripped her wand more tightly and jabbed it against his neck. Tom's eyes widened slightly, but he continued to smirk.

"I want to know what you were insinuating," she said slowly.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and she quickly stepped back. Two fourth years in a somewhat compromising and uncomfortable looking hold appeared around the corner. Minerva sighed.

"Blotts. Jenkins. You know better. This is the third time I've caught you this month. Fifty points from Gryffindor."

The forth years scowled and crawled through the portrait hole. Minerva distinctly heard "traitor" grumbled by one of them as the portrait slammed shut. She turned back to Tom who was grinning broadly.

"Thank you, Minerva. You make it so easy for me to find reasons to tease you, its almost scandalous. I'm beginning to think you fancy me."

"Shove off," Minerva muttered. She finally reached the end of the hallway and began down the stairs. Tom followed after her, intent on ruining her evening as much as possible.

"So what was it exactly that kept you so long, Minnie?"

Minerva balled her fists. She knew she had to resist fighting him, but if he continued to degrade her name, there was little she could do to contain herself.

"Were you anticipating an encounter with…_Albus_?"

She kept walking, her eyes burning with pure rage.

"After all, you are his _favorite_ student. So tell me - Minnie - how are those late night apprenticeship sessions going? I'm sure that _Albus_ finds all sorts of interesting transfiguration things to teach you. You meet in his _private_ chambers, am I right? I'm sure you're just loading up on all kinds of interesting…"

Wham! Minerva's fist made contact with Tom's noise, slamming him first into the wall and then to the floor. He howled in pain and scrambled to his feet with his wand out, but she was too quick for him.

"Expelliarmus!" she cried. His wand flew into the air and he fell back to the ground.

She stood above him with her foot on his chest. "Never speak to me in that vulgar manner again, Riddle," she spat. "I'll not tolerate it."

Tom grinned evilly and snatched her wand. Stepping back in surprise, she fumbled around for his.

Blood dripped from his nose, and he wiped it back with his sleeve. "Whatever you say, Minerva."

She found his wand a few feet away and held it up to meet her own. They stood, frozen, waiting for the other to make the first move. In all the commotion, they had missed the soft footsteps approach and take residence behind a statue.

"Go ahead McGonagall," Tom snarled.

"I'm not going to lower myself to attacking you first," she replied. "I'll defend myself at most."

Tom's mouth flew open, blood still oozing from his nose.

"You just punched me in the nose, Minerva! How is that not attacking me first?"

Minerva frowned and stepped closer. "You were attacking my reputation!"

"Well, Merlin forbid anyone tease you about something that's true!"

"It's not true!"

"Then why did you hit me?"

"Because you've been the one who's spread that rumor all over school."

"Rumors aren't always unfounded, Minerva."

"For goodness sake, he's one hundred years old!"

Tom lowered his wand warily as Minerva did the same.

"It was only a joke," he said quietly.

"It wasn't funny," she seethed.

Tom rolled his eyes and walked past her. "Get a sense of humor, Minerva."

"Get a sense of moral decency, Riddle."

Minerva followed after him. She paused at the top of the stairs, hearing a slight movement, but ignored it and continued on drudgingly towards the rest of her rounds.

* * *

Minerva entered her dorm room at eleven o'clock and collapsed on her bed. She had already been exhausted from the day of classes, and she was even more so after an evening of bickering with the spawn of Slytherin himself. 

She sat up and tugged at the tie holding her long, black hair in place. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Even his name reeked of pure evil. He had begun as a mere annoyance her second year - an exceedingly pompous first year who believed that he knew more about magic than Merlin himself. The mere annoyance had grown into an incredibly large annoyance, an enemy even. Minerva shuddered at the power he seemed to command among the Slytherins and younger students. He needed someone to keep him in check. Someone to show him that it wasn't feasible to rule the world - not that anyone would try to attempt that.

Minerva bit her lip and laid down, not bothering to change into her night things. Yet, the muggle world was in uproar over just that. Maybe the idea of taking over the world was not as foolish as everyone thought. Still, she laughed slightly to herself, trying not to disturb her sleeping roommates, it was hard to imagine the impending ruler of the world being knocked to the ground by a sixteen year old girl.

* * *

Tom stormed into his dormitory, throwing his bag on the floor. His roommates sat up slightly at the noise, but fell quickly back to sleep. Tom examined his blood-stained shirt sleeve and swore loudly. He peeled his shirt off and threw it on the floor, before grabbing a book and crawling into bed. 

"Minerva McGonagall," he fumed to himself. He drew the green curtains around himself and lit his wand to be able to read his book.

The lit wand revealed a rather battered copy of Hogwarts: A History. Tom furrowed his brow and made hurried notations as he flipped through the pages.

Minerva McGonagall. He couldn't get her out of his mind. How dare she have the nerve to hit him like that! What kind of witch was she?

"She could have at least forced me into a duel," he grumbled. "That at least would have been better than hitting me when I wasn't looking. That had to have made it pretty easy for her. Cowardly woman."

Tom sighed. He knew that she had beaten him fair and square and that he deserved it. And, he had to admit, her eyes glistened almost prettily behind those square-rimmed glasses when she was mad.

What was he thinking? He had to concentrate on the task at hand. No pretty eyes were going to distract him from five years of hard work. He was so close. There had to be something he was overlooking. He bent forward and tore harder through the book as the night wasted on.


	2. The Plan

**The Plan**

* * *

Minerva entered the Great Hall the next morning, accompanied by an incredibly giggly Avalon Figg. Her obsession with everything shocking was wearing on Minerva's nerves after six years of constant exposure to it. 

"Spill, Min," she said taking Minerva's hand and shaking it. "You weren't back until eleven o'clock last night. I know you were out with someone." Avalon flipped Minerva to look seriously into her face. "Was it Matthias?" Her eyes sparkled.

Minerva muttered something under her breath about associating with half-wit Hufflepuffs, but Avalon ignored her.

"It was him, wasn't it? Oh, Min, I'm so happy for you!"

"Avalon, have you ever considered that perhaps my rounds took a bit longer than usual? There was a highly suspicious number of second years snogging in the broom closet, okay?" Avalon look slightly disappointed and Minerva walked by her to sit at the Gryffindor table.

"Are you sure it wasn't…"

"There was no boy, Avalon!"

Avalon took the seat next to her and grabbed a napkin.

"That's not what I heard from Susie Jenkins," Orlando Hoff said teasingly, leaning across Minerva to grab a platter of rolls. "She said that she saw you with…"

"Are you in the habit of believing silly, hormonal fourteen-year-old girls, Hoff?" Minerva interrupted angrily. "Because if you are, you can go sit at the end of the table with them."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Avalon whispered loudly. She rubbbed Minerva's shoulder's soothingly.

"Which one, Minerva? The left side or the right side?" Orlando joked.

"It's a figure of speech, Hoff," she seethed.

Orlando and Avalon fell silent for a few moments and began eating.

"So who's the mystery man?" Avalon asked, leaning behind Minerva to talk to Orlando.

"Don't say anything," Minerva warned. She pointed her fork in his direction.

Orlando motioned with his head towards the Slytherin table. Avalon's eyes opened wide.

"Tom!" she exclaimed in astonishment.

Minerva groaned. "Orlando!"

Orlando grinned. "I didn't say a word, Minerva."

Avalon looked as if she was near having convulsions. "I don't think I can handle this, Min. I mean, one day you're hexing each other into oblivion, and the next you're…"

"Don't say it, Avalon."

Avalon raised her arms dramatically. "Lovers!"

Minerva put her head down on the table. She was certain that everyone at the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables had heard the proclamation. It was only a matter of time before -

"I've been hearing some very interesting things about our interactions last night, Miss McGonagall."

Minerva froze. "You too?" she asked sheepishly, not turning to look at him.

"I suppose I would like to know how you were able to change a duel into a romantic tryst, but you always have had a way with…_transfiguration_,"he hissed. Minerva jumped slightly, desperately thinking of a comeback and hoping that they weren't drawing too much attention. She realized by the looks on the faces across from her that she had no such luck.

"Perhaps I've realized why you took so much time getting ready for rounds. It seems my suspicions last night weren't so _unfounded_ as you thought."

Minerva rolled her eyes and spun to face him. "If you are going to make fun of me, do it, but do it correctly. You are mixing two different things. Your suspicions were that I loved you. The rumor was the thing that was unfounded. You're confusing the two." Tom's mouth fell open. "Really, Tom, for someone who is supposed to be so smart, you don't pay very much attention to detail."

Tom sent her a murderous glare and walked back to his table. Minerva realized that she had been holding her breath the entire time he had been standing there. She let it out slowly.

Orlando and Avalon both stared at her.

"Are you both satisfied now?" she asked. They nodded and went back to their breakfasts. Minerva had gotten through her first few bites when a shadow darkened her place setting.

"Miss McGonagall, I'd like to speak to you in my office."

Minerva's eyes widened and she glanced around at the Slytherin table, specifically Tom Riddle. By the triumphant look on his face, he'd heard. He whispered something to Titus Avery who laughed loudly. She turned to face Albus Dumbledore and swallowed.

"Is anything wrong sir?" she asked tentatively.

"No, not really; however, there are a few things I wish to discuss with you." Dumbledore smiled kindly down at Minerva causing her more worry than relief. "Do you have time before your next class?" She nodded slightly and followed him to his office.

Dumbledore sat down and stared over his half-moon spectacles at the girl opposite him. She shifted a bit nervously in her seat.

"You were there last night, weren't you," she said softly.

Dumbledore grinned. "Brilliantly perceptive as always Miss McGonagall. Now, are you going to tell me what that all was about?" Minerva avoided his gaze, trying to maintain the stern expression that generally occupied her face. "Do you mean to tell me, Miss McGonagall, that you punched Mr. Riddle rather smashingly, if I do say so myself, on the nose for no reason? That you actually gain pleasure from causing someone to suffer with no provocation whatsoever?"

Minerva's cheeks flushed. She knew that Dumbledore's aim was to get her to talk, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing what he already knew. It was impossible that he had not overheard some of their conversation.

"He was teasing me about being late for my rounds, Professor," she finally said.

Dumbledore leaned across the desk.

"I have the feeling that was not the only thing he was teasing you about, Minerva."

Minerva made an effort to conceal her face as she blushed more.

"Why Miss McGonagall. I don't believe I've ever seen your cheeks a more brilliant color scarlet. They do very little to cause me to believe you are telling me the truth. Now let's have it out and I'll see what I can do."

"Well," Minerva began, "he was giving me grief about being a teacher's pet because of the apprenticeship. I think he is a bit sore about not being asked himself. He is quite fond of transfiguration, you know. I suppose that's about it."

Dumbledore stared out the window thoughtfully.

"Professor, he's a bully, that's all. Don't worry about me. You have your hands full as it is." Her voice faltered slightly. "These are dark times."

Dumbledore turned to look at her. "You haven't seen Mr. Riddle involved in anything out of the ordinary lately, have you?"

"No sir." Minerva looked at him fearfully. "You suspect something don't you?"

He nodded sadly.

"You don't think he could be involved with Grindewald or anything terrible like that, do you?"

"Frankly, Miss McGonagall, I would be surprised by very little right now. As you said, these are dark times." He walked around the side of his desk in thought. "I've done my best to warn the headmaster that Mr. Riddle is hiding something, but he seems quite enraptured with the boy. To his credit, the boy's brilliant, but something doesn't quite hold together. You can get closer to him than I ever could. Will you keep an eye out for me?"

"Me?" Minerva whispered incredulously. "You do realize that we've an unwritten pact to loathe each other for the rest of eternity! How am I supposed to get close to him? You saw for yourself what happens when we get close."

Dumbledore chuckled slightly. "Yes, indeed I did. I do think, however, that you would have luck if you approached him academically rather than socially. I'm quite certain that he does research on his own, if his library registry is any indication. You might try finding common ground in that."

Minerva could hardly believe this was happening. She had been pulled into her Head of House's office for fighting, only to be asked to make friends with the person she fought with. It almost didn't seem fair.

"What happens if I do find out something?"

"You'll tell me."

"And then what? Suffer his wrath?"

"Perhaps." Dumbledore shook his head in slight amusement. "Minerva, I don't believe I've ever seen you this irrational before. Think about what you are saying."

Minerva fumed. "I'm never irrational. You're telling me to willingly put myself at risk and I have the feeling you are not telling me the whole story."

"You will be fine, Miss McGonagall. You are a very good judge of character."

"I already know his character, Professor. He's a pompous, self-centered, Slytherin who only cares about pushing his way to the top. That's not what you're asking me to discover."

"True, but I promise I will there the entire time. I have more eyes in this school than you could ever comprehend."

Minerva glanced at the paintings flanking the walls of his office in understanding.

"Okay," she conceded.

"Thank you, Miss McGonagall. You continue to show yourself to be an incredibly reasonable young woman." He held out a small, silver canister with a twinkle in his eyes. "Lemon drop?"

* * *

After politely declining Dumbledore's exorbitant selection of muggle candy, Minerva stumbled out of his office and headed straight to her next class hoping for something to get her mind back in order. Advanced potions, unfortunately, was not on the list of things that were going to make her day any better. She grudgingly descended down to the dungeons and sat through Slughorn's class imagining possible outcomes of befriending Tom Riddle. Three stood out in her mind. The first, she found out that he was bad and he killed her. The second, she didn't find out anything and he killed her. The third, however, was perhaps the most disconcerting of all - but there was no use dwelling on it. Nothing like that would ever happen. 


	3. The Problem

**The Problem**

* * *

Minerva quickly discovered that forcing Tom into a confidence was going to be no small task. After losing some face from the allegations that spread rapidly throughout the school concerning a relationship between the two of them, Tom had been avoiding her completely. He instead spread forth his malice on other temporary targets, the greatest of which was a third year named Rubeus Hagrid. Hagrid, after enduring a few days of Tom's wrath, refused to emerge from Gryffindor tower until Dumbledore himself coaxed him out to go to class. 

Minerva watched as the overly large thirteen-year-old sobbed into Dumbledore's shiny, silver robes about the terrible things Tom had said him. Dumbledore quickly remedied the situation with some Honeyduke's chocolate and Hagrid agreed to attend Herbology, provided that he have an escort. Minerva was pleased to finally have the common room cleared out, but she decided that something needed to be done. She needed to find Tom.

The most obvious place to look was the library. He seemed to almost live there. The hard part was going to be cornering him. He had a way of slipping by unnoticed when he sensed something particularly unpleasant coming; and, Minerva mused, the conversation she aimed to have had the potential for being considerably unpleasant.

Tom sat on the floor in the library carelessly stacking books into a pile as he yanked them off the shelves. Madame Pince had come over countless times to scold him, only to be met with a snappy reply and implied threat. Unable to argue with the Headmaster's golden boy, she quickly gave up.

"My, my, my. I see you've finally realized where you belong, Riddle," Minerva mused as she stood over him.

"You're blocking my light with your overly large head, McGonagall," Tom snarled back. "Move."

"Not unless you say the magic word."

"_Poreuo_," he replied lazily. Minerva was lifted a few inches off the ground and placed out of Tom's line of light. She gritted her teeth, but couldn't help but be pleased that he hadn't hexed her instead. She tapped her toe against the floor, but remained silent. He would ask what she wanted soon enough.

Levitating a seat, she sat down gracefully and grabbed a book from the shelf to peruse while she waited for his interest to peak. _Hidden Spaces: The Art of Concealment _fell open into her hands. She glanced down at the mound of books surrounding Tom and shook her head. It didn't make sense. What was he so intent on concealing? She noticed a small, green notebook a foot away from his leg. He scribbled something down in it, before feeling her eyes on him.

"Don't you have something better to do?" he seethed. "We all know that you love me, but I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment to be bothered by prissy, lovesick know-it-alls. Did Dumbledore finally dump you in the dirt?"

Minerva smiled at him sweetly. "Take your time, I'm in no hurry."

Tom eyed her suspiciously. It was unlike her to pass up an opportunity to snap at him.

"Go away."

"I want to talk to you first."

"That is exceedingly apparent. I don't want to talk to you."

"Obviously you don't. So I'll wait."

Tom slammed down a book. "You'll be waiting for a long time. I see no need in the near future to ever speak to you, except the occasional reminder that I loathe you even though you fancy me."

"Get over yourself, Riddle. Nobody fancies you. You're an absolute beast."

"Why thank you." Tom grinned deviously. "You're not saying much to deny that you adore me, Minnie. I urge you to try better next time."

He began piling books into his bag. Minerva again entered his source of light and blocked his path. He resisted the urge to shove her out of the way, remembering all too well the feeling of her hand meeting with his nose. She was insufferable and he hated her for everything she was about, but he felt that the time when he could truly hurt her had not yet arrived.

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me," she said stubbornly

He sighed heavily, shifting the weight of his bag onto his back. "What is it?"

Minerva hesitated for a moment, but remembered her deal with Dumbledore. "Will you help me with my…" she paused looking down, nearly unable to spit the words from her mouth, "Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment. I'm having a terrible time finding the books I need for the project and I've seen how good you are at research so I thought maybe…" She looked up, almost terrified by what she saw.

Tom was grinning as broadly and as evilly as she had ever seen him. She let out of a breath of air quickly, preparing herself for the storm that was to come. He was not, in any way, going to let her live this down.

* * *

Tom's heart almost stopped from the amount of glee pouring out from it. Minerva McGonagall - the most perfect Prefect, Transfiguration apprentice extraordinaire, woman of stone - this Minerva McGonagall was asking him, of all people, for help. Oh how far the mighty do fall, he thought to himself. It was if the goddess Minerva herself had offered herself up as the Roman Empire crumbled around her. Minerva looked at him pleadingly. 

"Why should I help you?" he questioned.

"Because I'm willing to admit that you're better than me at something."

"Not a good enough answer, Minnie." He emphasized the nickname, and saw her flinch at the sound of it. She was making it just too easy.

Minerva placed her hand on her hips and looked at him sternly through her glasses. Her eyes glistened. "What do you want me to say then, Riddle? I know you're going to make me dance around until I say what you want, so you may as well just tell me straight out."

Tom hesitated as his eyes locked with hers, but broke the connection and tapped his wand on her leg, pointedly. "I want you to get on your knees and admit that you're in love with me."

He could sense her will breaking as she backed away in disgust.

"Say it McGonagall," he taunted. "It's the only way I'll help you."

"I…I…" she stammered, obviously having not expecting that particular response.

Tom stood and moved closer to her, towering over her despite her tall form. "What's this Minerva? Losing some of that iron will you've always had? Afraid that I might break you?" He ran his hand down her cheek leaving a pink mark as she stood paralyzed, her face inches from his. He could feel her shallow breath hit his face as she fought to maintain control of her heartbeat. "Kneel and I'll help you," he hissed into her ear. "Kneel and I'll do whatever you ask."

Minerva shook herself from her paralysis and stepped back in determination. "There is nothing in the world that would induce me to do either one of those things as long as I live," she spat, regaining her composure. "I'd sooner snap my own wand in two and live as a squib the rest of my life. Forget I even asked, Riddle."

She turned on her heel and walked away with her head held high. Tom chuckled to himself. If only there was a way for that situation to happen again that led to him helping her with her project. Perhaps…he thought wistfully, but removed the thoughts from his mind. For the time being, he was going to have to settle for humiliating Rubeus Hagrid and forgetting about Minerva McGonagall. He only hoped that she would present him with another chance to help. He was sure it was his golden opportunity and he was very loathe to pass it up.

* * *

Minerva walked calmly from the library, an expression of stolid indifference lining her face. It wasn't until she was around the corner and out of sight that she broke down. Her breath seized up and as she hyperventilated she began to feel nauseous. She dashed into an empty classroom and collapsed on the stone floor. How could she have been so stupid? Of course he was going to make it difficult, even impossible, for her to get close! Dumbledore was a fool if he thought she could handle all of this. Tom was a dark wizard. She knew it. Dumbledore knew it. She just had to convince the rest of the world. 

Remembering the events that had transpired minutes before, Minerva lost her reserve and retched onto the floor. He had been so close to her. She had never been that close to a boy in her life. When it should have been comforting, it had made her feel so cold and empty inside. That was not normal.

Minerva stood shakily and hobbled to the window, not bothering to clean up the mess she had made. At least quidditch season was starting soon. Practices would resume within the next week. She couldn't wait for the release that came with flying. For one who prided herself on practicality and reservation, she showed neither on a broomstick. The thought comforted her slightly.

"_Scourgify_," she sighed. The floor returned to its cleanly condition.

Myrtle, a rather annoying fifth year, ran past the door, catching a glimpse of a pallid Minerva. Oblivious to the prefect's shaken condition, Myrtle took the opportunity to burst in and weave a story concerning a few Hufflepuffs whom she had caught snogging in the astronomy tower. Minerva stared at her for a few moments hoping that she would take a hint and go away, but she continued to stand in the doorway.

"I'll look into it, Myrtle, but there's not much I can do. I didn't catch them. You did."

Myrtle frowned and crossed her arms with a loud, "humph!" before leaving the room. Minerva slid to the floor wondering if there was anything that could possibly make the day more complicated. Tom Riddle's figure in the doorway, replacing Myrtle's just moments later confirmed that her day could, and would continue on its downward slope into severe complication.

* * *

Tom remained silent, taking in the sight of her. Her face was red; she had obviously been crying. He supposed he had expected it. That had been his goal - hadn't it? Tom shifted slightly. He hated it when people he respected cried. It was such a sign of weakness, an absence of power and control. Wait, had he just decided that he respected her? If he did, then why did he make her cry? 

Minerva stood perfectly still as if she hoped to blend in with the stone behind her. A piece of her hair had fallen out of its impeccable bun and fell loosely about her shoulders. Tom stared at it. It was so out of place. Here was a strong, remarkably intelligent witch whom he had reduced to nothing. He took a step forward and Minerva shrank back to the wall. She ran her hands nervously against the hard stone.

Does she think I'm going to curse her or something? Tom asked himself. He inched closer. He could see the fear in her eyes as he approached. He placed his wand in his pocket and an expression of relief flooded her face.

What are you doing, Tom? His head screamed. He stopped about a foot from her and reached out his hand. Minerva flinched, waiting for him to slap her, but it never came. He simply grabbed the strand of hair that had fallen from place and tucked it behind a clip in the back of her head. Their eyes met as Minerva realized what he had done.

Those eyes. Tom peered through her glasses at her glistening, wondrous dark eyes. He loved that fact that they seemed to pull light from all directions. They were a black hole in his mind - bottomless, fathomless, deep.

He reached out his hand again and brushed it against her cheek, more gently than he had in the library. Her skin was so smooth - so pure.

Minerva raised her own hand to place it on his and stared back at him in confusion. He could feel her mind racing. It must have decided to control its feelings, because her look of confusion quickly turned to repulsion. She slid beneath his grasp and ran from the room.

Tom slammed through the hallway on the fourth floor, causing a group of first years to scatter in fear. While few people had actually suffered from Tom's bad temper, many had witnessed it or heard rumors of it. Tom smirked slightly. There was a thrill that accompanied controlling the fear of others. He felt a sense of exhilaration - that is, until his thoughts strayed back to Minerva.

Why had he done that? Why couldn't he just have walked by when he heard her speaking to that idiotic Myrtle? It didn't make sense. He felt as if there was some kind of overwhelming force drawing him to her. He didn't like it. It did not make him feel in control. And he liked control.

Titus Avery and Romulus Lestrange came around the corner, almost running into their friend. They told him the story of an unfortunate second year they had levitated in the dungeons because he happened to find himself in the wrong hallway at the wrong time. Tom pursed his lips. He was in no mood for their stupid, bullying escapades. More important things were at hand.

"Earth to Voldemort," Lestrange laughed as he ran his fingers through the air in front of Tom's face. Tom pushed it away violently and stalked ahead. He saw a dark-haired head approaching the top of the stairs only to see Minerva emerge on her way up to Gryffindor tower. Her eyes opened widely in surprise and she quickly turned and walked back down. Tom resisted the urge to follow her. Lestrange and Avery were oblivious.

"Let's go down to the lake and see if we can get the squid to come out," Avery suggested. He laughed cruelly. "Maybe we can get those mermen to scream at us again. That was so funny!" He smiled dumbly to himself. Avery looked at Tom for guidance.

Tom shrugged. Perhaps it would do him some good to torture another type of being. Minerva was becoming to much of an enigma. He was almost afraid of what would happen if they had another conversation - almost.

* * *

"Why couldn't he have just stayed away?" Minerva cried as she sprawled herself down on her bed. Tears poured forth openly, careless of anyone who could be in hearing distance. The dormitory was empty, save Minerva's cat. The black cat leaped up onto the bed and sat down near Minerva's face. She turned to look at it. "How could someone I hate so much have that much of an affect on me?" 

The cat tipped his head slightly and began playing with the tassels on the bed curtains. Minerva rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

"How can I face him ever again?"

Her thoughts flew back to the second encounter with Tom. He seemed so different - preoccupied perhaps. She had almost been able to sense a bit of remorse on his part.

What was happening to her? Of course he wasn't remorseful for making her cry! This was Tom Riddle. Arrogant, egotistical Tom Riddle. He was pure evil and that was never going to change. A tear streamed down her cheek and she pulled the cat in close.

If she truly believed that, what was causing her to have so many doubts in her mind?


	4. The Encounter

**The Encounter**

* * *

Quidditch season arrived and Minerva successfully avoided Tom for the next month. Her days were too busy for encounters in the corridors or library, and she finagled a lessened schedule for rounds that didn't involve the Slytherin. She also avoided Dumbledore, unable to bring herself to admitting her failure in the task he had set before her. She was most definitely not getting to know Tom any better. She was, however, a great deal happier with the arrival of her favorite sport. 

The first game was approaching fast: Gryffindor v. Hufflepuff. Minerva was happy that they weren't forced to play Slytherin straight off, but she worried for the team. Only three members were returning from the year before - the keeper, a beater, and herself. The rest seemed to think they were ready, but Minerva was unsure. The captain, Rab Kilgore, had initially shown some hesitation in playing the new chasers, but had finally relented.

Minerva scolded herself for getting so excited; after all, the game wasn't until the end of the week. She had three more days of hard classes to contend with first.

"Do you think you guys will finally scrape through with the cup this year?" Orlando whispered during charms. Minerva ignored him, completely immersed in her note taking. She had heard him, but quidditch was no reason to neglect her studies.

"Or are you going to choke again like you did last year? And the year before that…and the year before that…and…"

Minerva slid over and stomped down on his foot - hard. He let out a small cry, enough to draw the attention of the class and Flitwick, but he raised his hand quickly to say he was okay. Everyone turned back to the front of the room as Flitwick demonstrated a cushioning charm.

"What was that for?" Orlando whispered innocently.

"You know very well that if you were on the team, we would have won," she whispered. "I don't understand why you refuse to play seeker. You're so good at it."

"I don't care about quidditch, silly. I'd rather watch you make a fool of yourself on a broomstick."

Before Minerva could reply, the class dispersed about the room to practice the charms. She and Orlando found a place near the window and began cushioning desks and chairs and shoving each other into them. Minerva was finding it a bit too satisfying.

"I'll have you know that I am a perfectly capable flyer. If you had shown up to a few more games, you would have seen that." She cast the spell on a book and knocked him to the floor. He glared at her.

"I was busy. Some of us actually have to study to learn things. Not everyone can just magically succeed."

Minerva laughed. "You? Study? That's ridiculous! Your idea of studying is flirting with Olive Hornby with a book in your hands. You cannot study by osmosis, Orlando."

He cushioned the window ledge and shoved her into it. She nearly missed the place where the charm had been cast.

"Well, at least I have a social life."

"So do I!"

"Books don't count as society, Minerva!"

"I have friends. I do things. I went to Hogsmeade last weekend."

"To go to the bookstore!"

Minerva cast a spell in fury and shoved him down on the ground, but she completely missed her target and he landed with a dull thud on the ground.

"Oww!"

"Serves you right, Hoff."

"Why?"

Minerva paused. "Because."

Orlando smirked at her inability to think of a comeback. "Because why?" he said saucily.

"Because I don't deserve to be made fun of. I have a perfectly acceptable social life. I am not in love with books, despite being quite fond of them. I went to Hogsmeade last weekend and had a butterbeer. I have friends, Orlando."

"Me and Avalon?" he asked with a laugh.

"Avalon and me," Minerva corrected. She drew back her wand and placed it in her pocket. She was tired of arguing.

"Most people have more than two friends." He paused slightly. "Well, I suppose you do spend an awful lot of time with…Tom Riddle."

A few people turned their heads at the mention of the Slytherin's name. While not being widely hated among the student body, his name generally involved some controversy. Minerva's face turned red.

"I'll have you know that I haven't spoken to that monstrosity in thirty-two days."

"So it's upset you enough that you've kept a count? Really Minerva."

"Orlando, you're infuriating!" Minerva yelled. That caught the attention of the rest of the class. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at him. "You're as bad as him!"

"You choose similar people to befriend, I guess."

"I have not, nor will I ever befriend such an ignorant, lowly, prick and if you ever so much as whisper his name to me ever again I'll…"

"Class dismissed!" Flitwick yelled quickly. He hopped from his high seat and strode out of the room. The class looked at Minerva and Orlando for a few moments, before leaving as well. Minerva looked at Orlando's amused expression and she dropped her wand.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled in embarrassment. "I don't really know what's gotten into me lately. I've been incredibly -"

"High strung," Orlando helped. "We noticed."

Minerva hung her head. "I suppose I'll have to apologize to Avalon as well. I just, never mind." She turned towards the door, but Orlando grabbed her arm.

"Something happened with Riddle, didn't it?"

Minerva turned to face him. "Nothing really. He's just such a beast sometimes. Maybe I should give him a chance. Everyone else seems to get along with him okay, except Hagrid and a few other younger kids. He sure likes to pick on a few people."

Orlando put an arm around her shoulder. "He'll grow out of it. You nearly have."

Minerva slapped him playfully and ducked out from underneath his arm. "I'll see you later. I have to go to practice, so we can 'scrape by with the cup' this year."

Orlando grinned and waved goodbye as she dashed down the hall. She hurried to grab her things from Gryffindor tower, including her prized Comet 180, then ran back down. Reaching the second floor she paused. She heard scraping coming from the girl's bathroom. The hallway was dimly lit, as always, and she approached the door cautiously.

"Hello?" she called softly into the echoing chamber. "Is everything all right in here? I thought I heard a noise and it didn't sound too entirely pleasant." She slipped in the doorway and closed the door only to come face to face with Tom Riddle. She nearly jumped out of her skin. His hair was mussed beyond recognition and his tie was askew. Minerva's eyes widened realizing that she had probably interrupted him at a very inconvenient time. He gave her a slightly disturbing glare. Mortified, she turned on her heel and marched out the door.

Stopping in the hallway, she wondered who had been in there with him. She hadn't seen anyone, but that most definitely didn't mean that they weren't there. She folded her arms. Tom should have known better than to use the girl's restroom for his sick 'encounters.' After all, he was prefect. He knew the rules perfectly well. Besides, any number of people could have walked in, as someone unfortunately had.

"I think I heard the same noise you did," Tom said innocently, emerging from the room. His cheeks colored slightly. "That's why I was in there, if you were wondering."

Minerva didn't respond, but stared at him. She hated not being about to discern whether he was lying or not, but no one else appeared in the doorway. Perhaps he was telling the truth.

"I don't generally frequent girl's bathrooms, I'll have you know."

"I didn't say you did," said Minerva quietly.

"Oh, well, I don't."

Minerva analyzed him carefully. Something was different, but she couldn't quite figure out what. "You may want to avoid the girl's restroom for a while, Riddle. It does very little for your reputation, and people do talk."

"Are you going to?" he asked, almost desperately. Minerva was taken aback. He seemed genuinely embarrassed for being seen there.

"Should I not?"

"I don't see any reason to. It's not as if I was doing anything wrong. In fact, I was just doing my job."

His eyes shifted slightly as to not make contact with hers. "In that case, then why should it matter if I told anyone? If anything, they would be happy that you perform your prefect's duties with such care."

Tom frowned. "You wouldn't understand, Minerva."

He pursed his lips and stormed off in his usual manner. Minerva let out a slight sigh. At least they hadn't raised their voices. Maybe they were finally making progress.

* * *

Of all people, why did _she_ have to be the one to stumble across him? It was absolutely and undeniably the most infuriating thing he could think about. She was everywhere! Even after avoiding contact with her for a few weeks, he couldn't put her out of his mind. The only reasonable explanation he could think of was that his considerable loathing for her was driving his subconscious to pieces. 

That wasn't it and he knew it. He walked down the stairs to the Slytherin common room and melted into one of the green couches. She was just - too perfect. He needed to get alone again, to talk to her. He needed to discover what it was about her that was tormenting him so, and to do that, he needed an incredibly plausible and very reasonable excuse.


	5. The Alliance

I'm rarely one to beg for reviews, but 195 hits vs. 2 reviews is a bit unsettling. Please review guys! Feel free to let me know what you think. Thank you for those two people who did review for the early encouragement.

* * *

**The Alliance**

* * *

"Tom Riddle, may I have a word?" 

Tom looked up from his desk as the rest of the class filed out of the room. Dumbledore smiled at him kindly and motioned for him to approach the desk.

"Certainly, Professor," he replied.

He walked to the front of the room and stood attentively opposite the transfiguration teacher. Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes slightly. Tom attributed it to the rather interesting class they had just had. Fifth year transfiguration was becoming a bit too advanced for a few of the less academically driven students and had resulted in sending two students and a rather perturbed goat to the hospital wing.

"Tom, I was wondering if you were planning on staying over holiday break this December?"

Tom laughed slightly. "I should hope that you were more confident in my loathing of that orphanage to be more than just wondering."

Dumbledore looked pleased. "Good. I had hoped that you might assist me in a small project. It will probably take up a good deal of time over your break, but I know that you enjoy any opportunity to learn something new."

Tom's mind flooded with thoughts. This would set him back a bit, but it couldn't hurt anything. Besides, it sounded rather intriguing.

"I would be happy to assist you with whatever you need, Professor. You are correct in thinking that I would enjoy such a task. What do you require of me?"

"You will be working alongside another student helping her with research on the Philosopher's Stone. Am I correct that you already know what that is?"

Tom bowed slightly. "The famed stone that alchemists refer to as the 'fountain of life' I would assume."

"Correct, Mr. Riddle. I have a friend interested in putting together a book about it and he and I are both too busy at the present time to be bothered with the little details. I suggested that I put a few of my more brilliant students to work on the project. You are sure that it would not be any inconvenience to you? I know no other student that would research as thoroughly."

"I would love to have something to occupy my time." Tom grinned and turned grabbed his books. "Do you need me for anything else, Professor?"

"No Tom. I'll be in touch to tell you when I need you to begin."

Tom walked towards the door and stopped. He had a slight suspicion as to whom his partner would be. "Who am I to be working with?"

Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "I think that you and Miss McGonagall will find that you work together very well."

Tom bent his head towards the professor in respect and walked out the door in triumph. It was only October, but he had the feeling the coming break would be the most interesting one he had ever had.

* * *

Minerva knocked on the door to Dumbledore's office with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It had been over a month since he had given her the task of tailing Riddle, and she knew that he was perceptive enough to know that she had done just the opposite. She hated letting him down, but she couldn't trust herself around Tom. He made her lose self-control, an action she was not keen on developing any further. 

"Come in Miss McGonagall," a voice called from the other side of the door. Minerva braced herself and walked in. Dumbledore seemed to be in a good mood; however, she had never really seen him in a bad one and she wouldn't know what to expect anyway.

"You asked to see me, sir?"

"Yes, please sit down." Dumbledore put his hands together and drummed his fingers. "I'm not going to tell you that I'm not disappointed in your dismal failure regarding Tom Riddle," he said sternly.

Minerva's eyes opened widely.

Dumbledore threw off his angry glare and smiled. "Minerva, relax. I'm not angry. I know your past with Tom could not have made the task very simple, but I have an alternative if you are still up to the challenge. I take it the DADA paper did not go over as smoothly as I would have hoped?"

Minerva shook her head, relieved that she had not lost the respect of her favorite professor.

"We're both too stubborn."

"I thought as much. I've just finished talking to Tom. He has agreed to work with you over Christmas break on a project I came up with. Is that all right with you?"

Minerva groaned inwardly. She had been looking forward to a pleasant, relaxing break at home, but she nodded. "That will be fine, sir. What is the project?"

"You'll be researching the history of the Philosopher's Stone for Nicholas Flamel. If he ever chooses to destroy the stone, he'll be releasing a book about his discovery and those who tried before him. Tom will work predominately on the research aspect and you will be organizing everything into a readily accessible write-up form."

Minerva shook her head in understanding. She was surprised that Tom had not found the project mysteriously suspicious. Perhaps he was more trusting than she realized.

"You will have to pretend that you know nothing of Nicholas Flamel, unless Mr. Riddle shows some sign of knowledge of him. I don't particularly want the fact that the stone does indeed exist spread widely about the school, especially among the Slytherins. If he does know, you may tell him what I've told you."

"Yes sir. When should we begin?"

"Mid-November should give you enough time. I'll give you leave to proceed once I find out the final details from Nicholas. For now, you may go."

"I'll do my best not to let you down, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "I have complete faith in your abilities, Minerva."

She turned and headed for the door.

"Oh, and Minerva? Please try to keep his suspicions to a minimum. We both have to remember that his is a remarkably intelligent person. Also, please know that I really hope my thoughts aren't justified. I just want to make sure."

Minerva nodded once more and left the room.

So, she was going to be working with Tom after all. She shook her head. She had to get it out of her mind. She had a quidditch game in - she looked at her watch - less than twenty-four hours! She needed to get to practice.

* * *

"Easy McGonagall! Save some energy for tomorrow!" Rab yelled from his beaters position. Minerva ignored him and swooped past a bludger to pop the quaffle through the center goalpost. One of the other chasers, a second year with little skill and no brain, applauded loudly before almost falling off his broom. The other chaser was arguing loudly with his ex-girlfriend who happened to be the new seeker while the other beater watched causing him to be hit in the face with an oncoming bludger. Practice was not going as planned. 

"Everyone take a break!" Rab finally yelled in frustration. They all turned to look at him in surprise. Minerva slowly descended to the ground and stalked off for her bottle of water. This was the worst display of quidditch she had ever seen in her life. The game was going to be positively embarrassing. She watched the seeker clumsily dismount and rolled her eyes. Hufflepuff was going to win in the first five minutes. Gryffindor was going to be utterly disgraced once again.

Catching her breath, she quickly hoped back on her broomstick and rocketed upward to work on evasive maneuvers.

"McGonagall! I told you to slow down! Take it easy for once!"

Rab rose up to meet her.

"Kilgore! What am I supposed to do? They look like they've never played quidditch in their lives!"

"Minerva, there's nothing we can do about that." He ran a hand through his wind blown hair. "Maybe they'll work well under pressure."

Minerva placed her hands on her hips. "That's ridiculous. This has happened at every practice. We need a miracle to win."

That miracle turned out to be a surprisingly alarming attack on London by the dark wizard Grindewald. Headmaster Dippet, Dumbledore, and a few other professors were pulled from the school to help handle the situation and the quidditch game was postponed until November. While everyone else on the team grumbled, Minerva and Rab were silently relieved. They had three more weeks to pull the team together.

* * *

"So I see you were all spared the embarrassment of losing to a bunch of duffers," Lestrange seethed into Minerva's ear the day after the game had been cancelled. Rab, who was sitting right next to her overheard it, and grabbed Lestrange quite forcefully by his necktie. 

"Do you have something to say to me, Lestrange?" he growled.

Lestrange's eyes grew fearful as the strong quidditch player stood to look down on him.

"No," he mumbled, retreating to the Slytherin table.

"That's what I thought," Rab called after him.

Minerva glanced over her shoulder. Tom Riddle whispered something angrily at Lestrange who hung his head in defeat. Tom looked up and their eyes met. They still hadn't spoken after speaking with Dumbledore. Minerva turned back to her food. Rab was deep in a tirade about Lestrange.

"Stupid Slytherins! They always think that they're better than everyone else. I resent him calling Hufflepuff duffers!"

A few Hufflepuff students turned around and joined in complaint.

"I mean, why should we all continue to have to put up with it? They're idiots!"

A chorus of "yeahs" and "you're rights" followed.

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy? Talking that way to Minerva? A prefect? He doesn't even deserve to clean her wand let alone speak to her!"

Minerva quickly tired of their ranting and left the Great Hall. She was tired and she worried about the professors who had been so quickly dispatched to London. She hoped everyone was all right. Why care about Slytherins and quidditch when so much else was on the line?

* * *

Tom noticed when she stood to leave and quickly downed his pumpkin juice. He followed after her, being careful to make it seem like he had forgotten something in the library. "McGonagall, wait!" he said as she started up the stairs. 

She stopped.

"Please don't, Tom. I'm really not in the mood. All this pettiness is truly driving me mad."

"I agree."

Minerva looked at him. He seemed sincere. What was going on?

"Are you and Lestrange in on this together? He gets me riled up and you listen to me rant so you can laugh about it later?"

Tom frowned. "No. I needed to talk to you about the - " he lowered his voice "philosopher's stone thing." He grabbed her arm by the elbow and steered her into a small chamber opposite the Great Hall.

He closed the heavy doors and turned to face Minerva.

"What's wrong, Tom?" she asked wrinkling her nose.

He took a step closer, causing her to step back, almost tripping over a chair. Tom ignored it.

"Don't you think it's a little suspicious that Dumbledore asked us to research this thing? I have the feeling that he's trying to lead us into discovering something else. It seems really out of character for him to pawn a project off on us."

Minerva froze. He was so perceptive some times!

"Maybe," she said slowly. "I suppose he has been acting rather strange lately. What do you think we should do?"

Tom shrugged. "I suppose we should just do what he tells us. We'll figure out pretty quickly if there's any underlying secret." He strolled over to the window biting his thumb. "I was just wondering since you are so close to him that you might have some insight."

Minerva felt her fingers tense. "You had better hope there was no hint of innuendo in that sentence or I'll -"

"Don't worry, McGonagall. I won't tease you. We are going to have to put aside our differences to work on this thing, so I suggest we begin now. I'll try to stop being the prick you think I am."  
Minerva folded her arms. "I'll try to stop being the know-it-all you think I am."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Then we have a deal?" Tom held out his hand. "We'll work together on this to see if we can figure out what Dumbledore's up to? I'm practically bothered to distraction about the whole thing."

Minerva reached her hand out tentatively. Dumbledore's plan was working more effectively than she had hoped. "Deal." She shook his hand firmly and he put his left hand on top of hers.

"Thank you, Minerva. I'm hoping that it will be a pleasure working with you." He smiled at her and left the room. Upon reaching the entrance hall he grinned widely. Not only had he secured her cooperation with the project and subsequently caused her to trust him, he had undoubtedly made her incredibly confused. Knocking his hat jauntily to the side, he skipped up the steps towards his next class.


	6. The Conversation

**The Conversation**

* * *

_She walked down a long passageway towards a small, glimmering ray of light. A door was slightly ajar at the end of the hall. She pushed it open slightly. A man was sitting in a chair with his back to her. Sensing her presence, he raised his wand and - _

Minerva woke up with a start. Sweat poured down her brow as she attempted to catch her breath. Something was definitely going on in her mind. She conjured up a glass of water and took a deep breath. Since hearing word from the ministry that her father had disappeared in his quest to defeat Grindewald, her dreams had returned. The quidditch game was approaching, a paper was coming up, and on top of everything she was very confused.Never had she seen Tom Riddle so agreeable, charming in fact, as the day they talked in that chamber. Something was going on.

Reaching for a book on concealment that she had checked out from the library, she attempted to focus her thoughts on something else than that awful dream.

"If only I could get a hold of that notebook," she murmured to herself.

She thought back to the green notebook she had seen with Tom in the library. Where had he put it? His pocket perhaps? She wasn't sure. Maybe he would let her look at it once they started working. She somehow doubted it. Fully concentrating on the notebook, she forced herself to turn off the light and go back to sleep. Perhaps a new day would yield something more.

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Minerva was loaded down with homework and news from London concerning more attacks. She had very little time to think about Tom Riddle, and she was happy about that.

The Halloween feast was the next time she had a chance to talk with him. Armando Dippet, always one for a show, had hired out a band of goblins to do tricks for the students throughout the day preceding the feast. The tricks, unfortunately, tended to border on the dangerous side and the prefects found themselves knee deep in injuries. At the start of the feast, Minerva found herself reluctantly helping a hobbling third year to the hospital wing whose foot had been turned into a pumpkin. It was quite a bit heavier than his other foot and he was crying inconsolably. Minerva finally gave up trying to walk with him and conjured up a stretcher to take him up.

She walked into the hospital wing and met Poppy Pomfrey, a recent graduate from Hogwarts and Madame DuMedici's intern. Poppy wiped a bead of sweat from her head and pointed to an empty bed. Minerva was surprised to see that the figure lying in the next bed was none other than Tom Riddle.

"Don't even think about it, Minerva," Tom groaned, seeing her. His mouth was bandaged up and she could barely make out what he had said.

Minerva smiled to herself and sat down at the foot of his bed.

"I would never," she promised slyly. "So Tom, what happened?" He glared at her. "What? Goblin got your tongue?"

Tom's arm shot up and grabbed her by the collar. Minerva, remembering their agreement, continued to laugh. He relaxed when he saw that she was not going to react and laid back in the bed.

"He was juggling what looked like balls and they miraculously morphed into Cornish pixies," he said, his voice muffled by the bandages. "I was in the front row and I wasn't paying attention."

Minerva suppressed a giggle, but couldn't wipe the smile off her face. "Who's class?"

"Flitwicks. That little bugger just stood there and laughed." Tom grimaced and Minerva almost felt bad for him. She had never seen him get the bad end of anything. He wouldn't allow it.

"Well, I'm going to go enjoy my butterbeer and cakes and cookies and pies and -"

"Just leave me in my misery, McGonagall."

Minerva sent him a smirk and hopped off back down to the Great Hall. As the dinner drew to a close, she quickly dumped more than a few pumpkin cookies into a napkin and tucked them inside her robe.

* * *

"Something is going on with Minerva," said Orlando thoughtfully as he sat in the Gryffindor common room with Avalon. 

"I agree." Avalon's eyes lit up. "Maybe she's seeing someone!"

Orlando folded his arms. "I somehow doubt that. She's just been sneaking around a lot lately. I also saw her dump an entire tray of cookies in her pocket after the Halloween feast."

Avalon hopped up on her knees. "Do you think she's eating for two? She _has_ been seeing someone! I'm going to be an aunt!"

"Avalon! I don't think she's seeing anyone. It's Minerva, remember."

"Oh right. Well, have you asked her about it?"

"No, I know what she'll say."

"She'll deny it - "

"And she'll avoid me - "

"Until she forgets about it - "

"Weeks later, when she has another reason to be mad at me."

Avalon sat back down on the couch. "I suppose I could try talking to her, but she doesn't really like talking to me. She thinks I'm silly."

Orlando put a hand on her shoulder. "You are silly."

"I'll try really, really hard not to be."

"I'm not saying I don't like that you're silly."

Avalon blushed. "I'll talk to her in my most serious tone possible, just for you."

Orlando grinned. "Thank you."

* * *

"Min, I need to talk to you about something." 

"Avalon, I'm sort of busy at the moment, can I talk to you later?" Minerva was sitting on the floor of the library, leafing through one of the books she had seen Tom with at the beginning of the year. She hoped she would gain some insight into his sudden, likeable transformation.

"Please, Min. It'll only take a few minutes."

Minerva put a bookmark in the book and closed it. It was very seldom that Avalon asked her for anything and she still felt bad for being so snappy over the preceding months. "Go ahead. You have my attention."

"Are you okay?" Avalon asked in concern. She tossed her light blonde hair over her shoulders and kneeled down to where Minerva was sitting. "Orlando and I are very worried about you. You're never around. You've been hiding out down here constantly when you're not at quidditch. You've been sneaking food and don't look at me like that; Orlando saw you. You never want to do anything and you've been rather, well - cranky lately. We just want to make sure that you're all right."

Minerva sighed. "I've been a bit stressed out, I suppose. I've been worrying about my father and school and quidditch and this project thing that Dumbledore's making me do. And, I've been having these dreams every night - it's a busy year. I'm sorry if I've made you guys feel bad."

"We haven't felt bad, we've just been worried. What are these dreams about?"

"Nothing." Avalon shook her head to say that wasn't good enough. "They're all different, I guess," Minerva relented. "They all take place here, which I suppose is why they keep me up so badly. They are a bit too real for my taste. I'm having a terrible time waking up in the middle of them. My mind can't discern a dream from reality. I have a feeling that stress is finally getting the better of me."

Avalon patted her friend on the back soothingly. "I'm glad it isn't anything too serious. I can help you feel less stressed," she said confidently. "Ice cream usually works."

"Thanks Avalon. I appreciate your concern. How about we talk more after dinner? I'll be finished with my homework then. Bring Orlando if you want. I know that a talk with him prompted this discussion and I'm sure you'll be relating the result to him presently."

Avalon laughed a little. "Stop being so serious! No one talks like that, Minerva. Every once in a while you need to let your hair down! I'm pretty sure you'd be happier."

She stood and readjusted her robes.

"Eight o'clock. Gryffindor common room. You. Me. Ice cream. Bring a spoon," she said in mock seriousness. Minerva forced a smile and Avalon trounced off.

"Unfortunately, ice cream hides the symptoms," Minerva sighed, flipping the book back open. "What I need is a cure."

* * *

Tom backed up and leaned against the bookshelf behind him. He hadn't meant to overhear, really he hadn't, but he couldn't risk moving and letting them know he was there once they had started talking. So _she _had been the one who left those pumpkin cookies on his bedside table. He'd had a hunch, but was not quite sure. Gryffindors. Always feeling like they should do the heroic thing to help someone. 

Even so, the cookies had been pretty good once his mouth had stopped swelling.

What had she meant about her father? Tom slid to the floor. He worked at the ministry, but he wasn't sure what exactly his job entailed. He'd have to ask her.

What was he thinking? Since when did he associate with McGonagall by his own free will? He shouldn't be asking her about her father, he should be rubbing it in her face! He was tired of his emotions getting the better of him. This was becoming absolutely ridiculous.

At least he had finally found it. He was sure of it. The trick would be avoiding any suspicion. _That_ was where Minerva McGonagall was going to help him. _That_ was the task at hand. Not feeling sorry for her. Not making friends with her. Especially not looking into those entrancing brown eyes. No. Minerva McGonagall was nothing to him, and he was determined to keep it that way.


	7. The Game

Thanks for the people who put me on author alert. Please review! Please!

**

* * *

****The Game**

* * *

The talk with Orlando and Avalon did nothing but raise their suspicions that something was seriously wrong with Minerva. She avoided eye contact, she faked smiles, and to Avalon's distress turned down chocolate syrup for her ice cream. Minerva didn't care that they were unsatisfied with her responses. She was very much preoccupied with everything else going on.

"Bear with me," she finally said. "I'll be back to normal soon."

The quidditch game drew near again and the team seemed to be playing somewhat better. The chaser and the seeker found love elsewhere and the beater learned to keep his mind on the game. Minerva gave up on worrying about it. She had enough on her plate as it was.

She walked into the locker room already wearing her quidditch robes. The mood was intense and the tension was high, and on top of everything, it had just begun to rain.

"Okay everyone. This is it," Rab said, rubbing his hands together more from the cold than anything else. "The way I see it, we've been given a second chance to win this, so somebody out there is on our side." Minerva forced herself not to say "Grindewald" and kept listening.

"We are going to need complete concentration to succeed. I want you to put aside anything that is in your mind that does not start with 'quid' and end in 'itch'."

"Oh well, that's truly inspiring, Kilgore," Minerva said sarcastically.

Rab sent her a look of death and she put a hand over her mouth.

"You are a great group of individuals," he continued. "I want you to know that, whatever happens, I'm proud of you." Minerva rolled her eyes. She hated pep talks. Especially ones with gross sentimentalities and meaningless clichés.

"Now, go out there and show me a brilliant game of quidditch!"

The team rose and filed out to get their brooms. Rab grabbed Minerva's hand sympathetically and squeezed it once. She smiled and followed him out to the pitch. Her name was called and she soared out onto the field finding her place at the center ring. Professor Slughorn was refereeing. Rab and the Hufflepuff captain shook hands and Slughorn released the balls. Minerva quickly grabbed the quaffle and ducked under an opposing chaser for a fast goal. The crowd roared and Minerva shot a smug look at the keeper who looked completely bewildered. The rest of the game, however, did not go so smoothly.

A light rain quickly turned into a thunderstorm which soon turned into a thunderstorm of freezing rain and hail. The players were pelted with ice and water as they tried to dodge other players, bludgers, and anything else in their way. Professor Dumbledore cast a spell on the stands to keep the bystanders from receiving such a harsh dose of weather, but the players were forced to endure the elements.

Minerva could barely see a few feet ahead of her face. Her glasses were foggy and her wand was in the locker room, so she couldn't do anything about it. One of the Hufflepuff chasers sprinted towards the goalposts. He passed the quaffle rather clumsily, and Minerva surged forward to intercept it. She passed it to another chaser, who knocked it into the goal.

Minerva cheered for her teammate, but with her impaired vision was unable to see a bludger coming straight for her. It slammed senselessly into her shoulder and she flipped all the way over, nearly losing her seat. The crowd gasped. Rab darted forward, knocked the ball towards the Hufflepuff keeper, and grabbed her broomstick to keep her from falling.

"You okay?" he yelled over the storm.

Minerva gripped her arm and nodded while she attempted to suppress the telltale tears that were emerging from her eyes.

"I'll be fine," she assured him.

He patted her on the back and flew back to catch another bludger before it hit her again. She saw the seeker diving towards the ground and hoped that the game was almost over. Shaking off the searing pain in her shoulder, she flew forward and took the quaffle again.

The game dragged on. Two hours passed and there was no sign of the rain letting up or the snitch. Minerva's arm throbbed. Every minute or so, she had to remove her glasses and wipe them off on her wet robes. She was tired and she was wet and she was not having fun.

All of the sudden, her glasses cleared up. The rain didn't stop, but she could at least make out the other players. Someone had charmed them to repel water. She was unable to see into the stands to tell who, but it vastly improved her sight distance. Gryffindor slowly inched ahead as the score became 240-230.

Finally, after hours of exhaustion, the Gryffindor seeker captured the tiny snitch in her fingertips. They had won!

Minerva sank to the ground, bypassing the screaming crowd that had spread out onto the field and nearly collapsed in pain. Her shoulder was hanging at an odd angle, throwing off her balance. She walked into the locker room, grabbed her bag, and headed up for the hospital wing.

She was soon joined by Tom Riddle. "Good game, McGonagall," he called. "You might actually have a chance against us this year. Well, a chance to not make fools of yourselves at least. We'll win."

"Thanks for the encouragement, Riddle," she grumbled.

He caught up to her and saw the pain on her face. "Are you going to be all right? You don't look so good."

"If you must know, I'm on my way to the hospital wing. I think I might have broken my shoulder."

"You say that so calmly."

"I've had some time to think about it. It happened about two hours ago," she said bitterly. "Next practice we are working with that seeker. That was ridiculous. It was right in front of her a hundred times."

"Really? That many? I could have sworn it was only eighty-six times, but you had a better view than I did," he grinned.

Minerva raised her eyebrows. Was Tom Riddle joking around with her? It sure seemed like it.

"I was exaggerating."

"Exaggeration is a billion times worse than understatement."

He was! He was joking with her! What was happening? She must have gotten hit in the head or something. Maybe _he_ had gotten hit in the head. This was just not possible.

Tom grinned. He seemed to have noticed the same thing.

"Tom, that makes no sense."

"It was a joke. Do you need me to explain it to you?"

"Of course not." Minerva grinned. "I don't think I've ever seen this side of you Tom."

"Really? I would actually say that my profile looks the best if you're on my right."

"That's not what I meant. You just seem so - happy. I find it interesting that it happens to be when I'm in excruciating pain."

Tom's face fell. "Does it really hurt that bad? I can run and get someone if you want to stay here." Minerva shook her head and kept walking. "I know what it feels like," Tom continued. "When I was at the orphanage, I broke my arm a few times. Of course, it always healed itself. The nurse there hated me. She said I was an enigma."

"I'd forgotten you were an orphan," Minerva murmured softly, more to herself than to Tom.

Tom scoffed ruefully. "If only. My father's still alive - somewhere. After he left my mum to die, decided to forget about me to. It was probably better that way. I probably would have killed him."

Minerva raised her eyes to see if he was kidding. The hatred that filled them left her unsure.

They walked on in silence for a while as they approached the steps up to the castle.

"Are you sure it doesn't hurt to much?" Tom asked with concern.

"It hurts Tom, but I think I'll live."

"I just wanted to make sure."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and they walked up the steps. When they reached the top, Minerva gently pressed her hand on his shoulder to stop him. It began to rain harder.

"Tom?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for being so nice to me lately. It's one less thing that I have to worry about. I know that you don't like me and that you probably never will, but I am glad that you respect me."

Tom looked down at his feet. "We made a deal. I was keeping my end of it."

"Well, I appreciate it. Thanks."

Tom frowned. "I don't back out on my deals. I do have some sense of moral decency."

Minerva stopped. "I never said you didn't."

"Yes you did. That day in the hall after we got into that row over Dumbledore."

"Well, I'm sorry I said that. You've changed. I've noticed."

"Maybe I didn't change. Maybe you changed your perception of me."

Minerva placed her hands on her hips. "Do you really want to argue about this?"

"I'm just tired of you thinking that I'm such a scoundrel! Aside from teasing and the occasional disagreement here and there, I've always been a perfect gentleman to you and your friends."

"Occasional disagreement?" she asked incredulously. "Perfect gentleman? You call the way you acted in the library that day gentlemanly conduct? I thought you were going to - "

"What? What did you think I was going to do?" Tom yelled in her face. The rain continued to pour down around them both. "Did you think I was going to strike you? Is that it? That I was going to hex you or curse you or, Merlin forbid, ruin your reputation of being little miss perfect?" He took a step closer and Minerva stood her ground in defiance. Tom's voice softened, "Or were you afraid of something else?"

He lifted her chin with one of his long fingers and stared into those fathomless brown eyes.

"What?" Minerva was shaking.

"Were you afraid that I was going to…" he paused. His face was so close to hers. She took in his handsome features, his dark hair plastered from the rain. Her breath quickened. She could feel her heartbeat pounding and she was sure he heard it. He leaned in. She ducked just in time as Dumbledore appeared through the trees right behind them. Tom scowled and took a step away from her.

They waited for the elderly, yet spry professor to catch up and Minerva could tell he was analyzing the situation. They had been standing very, very close and she was fairly certain that Tom's aim in leaning down was not to check to see if her lips were blue from the cold. She fidgeted nervously and could feel the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Is it broken?" Dumbledore asked.

Minerva nodded. "I think so. Tom was concerned and was making sure I got up to the hospital wing."

"Thank you Tom. I can take her from here." Dumbledore paused. "Unless, you'd rather see her up yourself. You are, after all, going to be working with each other and I'm happy to see that you are getting along so well."

Tom hung his head and shot Minerva a look. She knew he could see right through her. She had been scared to death that he was going to kiss her. She would have backed away even if Dumbledore hadn't shown up.

"Go ahead, Professor," said Tom bitterly. "I still need to finish my homework for Monday. I hope you feel better, McGonagall." With that he stalked off.

Dumbledore sent her a knowing look and helped her into the castle. "Please remember the task at hand, Minerva."

"I will," she said quickly. "I mean, I already do. I am completely focused."

She knew that was a lie and she knew that the expression on her face was screaming that very thing.

"Very well, Miss McGonagall." Dumbledore patted her on the shoulder that was intact. "I'm just urging you to tread lightly. I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you. Please keep me aware of what you discover."

"I will, sir. I promise."

Minerva wished that there was a way to shut off her mind. So many things were running through it that she felt nauseous. At least the game was over. That was something.

She walked into the Hospital Wing.

"It's broken, Minerva," Poppy said without even examining the girl.

"I know."

"You should have come earlier. Does it hurt?"

"What do you think?" Minerva snapped. Poppy jumped and walked into the back to consult Madame DeMedici on the best course of action to treat her. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and left the room.

Minerva leaned back onto a bed and tried not to think about the pain that was nearly blinding her. She knew the absence of her quidditch worries were going to do little to ease her overall suffering. No news had come concerning her father. He was still missing. They weren't close, but still - he was missing. Poppy returned and began mending the arm with her lips pursed.

"I'm sorry I snapped, Poppy. It isn't the most pleasant thing. You're right. I should have come right away."

Poppy sighed and gave her a sympathetic look. "You'll be good as new in a few minutes. Hold still and relax."

Relax? This was Minerva McGonagall. Relaxing was just not an option.


	8. The Project

Hey guys! Thank you to those of you who like my story. I'm pretty fond of it myself. This is one of my favorite chapters so far (mostly because it takes place predominantly in the library and I am going to be a librarian). Enjoy and please review!

* * *

**The Project**

* * *

"Miss McGonagall. I've spoken to Mr. Flamel and I would like for you and Mr. Riddle to begin working. Come to my office at 3 o'clock this afternoon. Signed, Albus Dumbledore." Avalon set the note down on her bed and looked at Minerva. "So that's why you've been acting so strange. You're upset that you have to work with Tom."

"I am perfectly capable of working with Tom Riddle. I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about."

"Minerva, you've hated each other since he came second year. You hated him for thinking he was smarter than you and he hated you for thinking you were smarter than him. I'm not surprised that you're upset."

"I suppose, maybe -"

"Don't worry about Tom, Min. I know you both have had your differences, but he's really smart. I don't think he'll bother you all that much, especially not with Dumbledore heading up whatever it is you're doing." Minerva opened her mouth as if to explain, but Avalon held up her hand. "Don't tell me. I am completely uninterested and you explaining it to me would only make me feel incredibly dumb."

Minerva took a sip of water thoughtfully. "Honestly, Avalon. I'm not all that worried about Tom."

Avalon tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"I just get so…frustrated when I'm around him. I turn every semi-nice thing he does into this plot to get close to me and kill me. I'll be arguing with him one minute, then the next minute I'll be joking with him like he's my long lost cousin or something. I hate the lack of control!"

Avalon grinned. "So you're saying that you are more worried about controlling yourself around him."

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

"You have feelings for him!"

"I most certainly do not, Avalon! I cannot believe you would suggest such an awful thing!"

"You feel like you 'let your hair down' around him?" Avalon asked slyly.

"Stop saying that phrase! You know perfectly well that I hate it!"

Avalon hopped off her own bed and slid on to Minerva's. "Why do you hate it so much? There is nothing wrong with a little excitement. I'm glad that you're doing this. I think it will be good for you."

Minerva furrowed her brow. "I don't see how working with that -"

Avalon placed a hand over Minerva's mouth and said in a low voice, "Please. For once in your life, do something without analyzing everything to death. Go to Dumbledore's office. Meet with Tom. Begin whatever it is you are doing. If you succeed, you succeed. If you fight, you fight. If you happen to fall head over heels for him, well-"

"Do not finish that sentence, Avalon."

Minerva rose and swung her bag over her shoulder.

Avalon smirked, "I'm just saying - keep an open mind."

Minerva walked from the room without a reply.

* * *

Tom was mad - no - Tom was livid. She had embarrassed him, and the worst part was that he had let her. This was what he got for getting emotionally attached to someone; they disappointed him. He slammed his hand into the stone wall as he marched up to Dumbledore's office. His father had done the same thing before letting his family down. Apparently, you couldn't trust anybody.

As he approached the door, he slowed down. Now he was going to have to face her. He thought back to her pain-stricken face as they stood in the rain and clenched his fists. He had let his guard down. Conniving know-it-all. She was a Gryffindor. They were supposed to be trustworthy, brave, and loyal, but Minerva had let him down. He opened himself up to her and she had backed away.

What was he going to say to her? What was she going to say back? She had to have known he was going to kiss her. She had backed away on purpose; he could see it in her eyes. That look of conscious betrayal.

"Dumbledore," he murmured. If only Dumbledore hadn't shown up. He could have at least exposed her cowardice then and there. It may have yielded some explanation, instead of this - this speculation!

How did he get himself in this situation in the first place? How had he, Tom Riddle, the boy who never needed or wanted a friend, found himself caught up in this mess? Nearly kissing Minerva three times, and letting her stomp all over him like that. It just wasn't like him. Before she entered his life he was focused, never letting his eye off the goal. Now he had fallen into utter obscurity, just like his father. Well that just wasn't going to work.

He rounded the corner blindly and nearly collided with the object of his distaste. He glared at her as they stood, suspended. The look of fear that had so frequently flooded Minerva's face before, returned causing an alarm to go off in Tom's brain. He couldn't very well go back to the way he used to treat her after making such a big deal about their agreement.

Minerva lowered her head. "Tom, about the other day. I don't really know what happened -" Her voice broke and Tom could swear she was on the brink of tears. What had he done? How was he able to cause such an effect from her?

What was he thinking now? Only minutes before he had been more than ready to send her on her way, but he couldn't now. He was transfixed.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Minerva, I-"

"Enter, you two," Dumbledore's voice called from the other side of the door. Minerva jumped in surprise and Tom scowled. The portrait leading to his office swung open on its own accord and they walked in side-by-side.

Dumbledore studied them closely. Minerva looked pale and slightly flustered, while Tom looked completely indifferent to the situation. "I've made all of the necessary arrangements. Here is all the information you will need." He lifted a large purple envelope and handed it to Minerva. Tom watched as she pulled it to her chest, her knuckles turning white.

"Every book in the library is at your disposal, including those in the restricted section," Dumbledore continued. "You will find passes included in the envelope. If you have need of any other resources, you may floo the ministry and use their library. I've notified the proper authorities regarding that. Now, do either of you have any questions?"

Minerva dropped her gaze and shook her head.

"No sir," Tom said for them both. He gave the professor a slight trace of smile and turned on his heels.

"Miss McGonagall, will you stay for just a moment?"

"Certainly, sir."

She paused awkwardly in the doorway.

"I'll wait for you in the hallway," Tom said without emotion. He walked quickly out of the room and began pacing back and forth. What had gotten in to her? Never had he seen her so distracted. How was he supposed to work with her when she was like this?

Tom frowned and twiddled his wand between his fingers. What was Dumbledore up to? It just wasn't like him to invent a project like this. Suddenly, Tom had a terrible thought. He dropped his wand. What if he knew? No. It was impossible. Tom had been too careful.

He picked up his wand and resumed pacing. Still, what if he had? Dumbledore was an old fool, but he was a perceptive old fool - and, he trusted Minerva.. So that was it. Minerva was Dumbledore's spy. She and Dumbledore had lied to him. No wonder she had been so distracted after he tried to kiss her. She felt that she was betraying two people.

Well, she wasn't going to betray him. He had worked far too long and hard; he had put more effort and magic into reaching his goal than anything in his life. Two could play this game. She wouldn't think twice about letting him down after he got through with her. He was going to need big magic to pull this off. This meant war.

* * *

"Minerva, are you still open to doing this?" Dumbledore asked in concern. "I can find someone else."

"No Professor," she said quickly. "I'll be find."

"You're sure? You have not been acting yourself. I've never seen you this passive before. It worries me."

Minerva rubbed her arm and looked at the floor. "I have been a bit preoccupied as of late, but I will be back to normal once break starts. Exams are coming up and I always get slightly on the edge. The stakes are constantly getting higher."

Dumbledore nodded, satisfied. "Very well. Tell me if it gets to be too much for you."

"I will, sir."

She turned and walked out the door. Tom was leaning against a suit of armor lost in thought. He raised his head as she approached. "Ready?" he asked.

She nodded and fell into step with him as they walked up to the library. She glanced briefly at Tom. He was staring straight ahead.

"I can carry the envelope if you want," he said suddenly.

Minerva tightened her grip on the packet.

"I just thought it might be nice to not have to carry one more thing. Your bag looks rather weighty."

Minerva readjusted her bag on her shoulder. It was a bit heavy. She silently handed Tom the envelope. They walked on without talking. It wasn't an imposing silence, but Minerva found it rather uncomfortable. He was angry with her, she could tell. His eyes had burned after the kiss and they were identical to his expression when he had almost run into her. He was not happy about having her back away.

"How is your father?"

Minerva stopped mid step causing Tom to bump into her arm. She turned to him. Her eyes were laced with confusion and concern.

"How do you know about my father?" she asked quietly.

"I overheard someone talking about it," he admitted. It was the truth, sans a few details.

"I don't know how he is, obviously," she snapped. She surged forward ahead of him. Tom's long stride caught up with her quickly.

"I didn't hear any details, I just heard that something had happened. What happened?"

Minerva spun around.

"Why do you even care?"

"We had a truce, remember?"

"Yes, but I figured that one of us violated the terms of that when we had that fight last week."

Tom shoved his hands in his pockets. "I think we both did, but that doesn't mean that the agreement was void. I thought we were going to try to figure out what Dumbledore was up to."

Minerva's features softened. "Do you actually care, or are you just asking because you want to sound concerned?"

Tom reached for her hand. "I actually care."

Minerva pulled her hand away, but said, "He went missing."

"How long ago?"

"It's been almost two months."

"I'm sorry. What was he doing?"

Minerva sighed and walked to sit down on a stone bench in the corridor. "He is an auror with the ministry. He was appointed as the head auror for the Grindewald division. From the information that I've gathered, he discovered some lead and went off by himself. There was no news of an attack or anything; he just disappeared without a trace."

Tom bit his lip. "Are you close?"

"Not in the slightest."

"So you aren't too worried?"

"He's my blood. Of course I'm worried. I just - wish I was a bit more worried. It's more distracting than anything else. I didn't cry or anything when I found out."

"I wouldn't expect you to." Tom sat down beside her. "I know I wouldn't care at all if my father went missing, or worse."

"From what you've told me about your father, I'm not surprised."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I suppose we should get to work on this," Tom said finally. He stood. "We don't have too much of November left and break will begin before we know it. I'd like to get as much done as we can so we can have some free time over Christmas."

"Good idea," Minerva agreed. As they continued up to the library, thoughts flooded Minerva's mind. Why wasn't he mad at her? It didn't make sense. Something must have happened while she was in Dumbledore's office alone to make him change his mind. Oh well. At least they were talking.

They entered the library, bypassed Madame Pince, and found an empty table Tom took a seat next to Minerva and they opened up the envelope. Enclosed was a list of possible resources that might help, a notebook for Minerva to use for organization, an enchanted card catalog, two year-long passes to the restricted section, and a note saying "good luck." Minerva pulled out a fresh quill and ink and wrote, "The Philosopher's Stone" in green at the top of the notebook.

Tom reviewed the resource list. "These are going to be very interestingly boring," he said with a small groan. "The Essential Properties of Undiluted _Aqua Vitae_. It's 6,000 pages on the properties of water!"

Minerva laughed a little. "Have fun reading that."

"You'll be reading some of this as well," he frowned. "Listen to this - A Beginner's Guide to Muriatic Acids, Rosicrucianism: An Exhaustive History, _Magia Naturalis_ - that one's all in Latin, and The Scientific Transmutation of Chemical Alloys. These sound absolutely horrific."

"Again, have fun."

Minerva was already scribbling furiously in the notebook.

Tom grumbled and began playing with the card catalog. He wrote in the author he wanted and the card generated the call number. He rose and began picking out reading material. Minerva watched him walk away pursing her lips.

Studying his retreating figure, her eyes caught something. The corner of a small green book peeked out from the pocket of his robes. So, she thought, he carries it around with him. The only problem was getting it away from him and returned without him noticing.

Tom returned with a stack of books that rivaled the leaning tower of Pisa and began tossing them one by one onto the table in an effort to keep from dropping them. Madame Pince's sharp senses alerted her to books being mistreated and she slid from behind the shelves.

"What on earth do you think you are doing, Mr. Riddle?" she seethed in his ear. A very startled Tom whirled around, dropping the books in every direction. He composed himself quickly.

"I'm working on a project for Dumbledore. Go away. I won't hurt any of your precious books."

Minerva's jaw dropped. She had never heard Tom speak with such disrespect towards a teacher or staff member. Madame Pince grimaced and stalked away.

"Irma and I go way back," Tom shrugged when he saw the look of horror on Minerva's face.

"I should take away points for disrespecting a teacher," she said softly.

Tom grinned. "You forget I'm a prefect. I'd just give them back to myself."

Minerva folded her arms for a second, thinking of a retort, but went back to work. For the next four and a half hours, she and Tom poured through the books looking for historical background and interesting facts. The grumble in their stomachs finally alerted them of the need to take a break.

"What time is it?" Tom asked blankly. Their eyes hurt from hours of reading small print.

Minerva glanced at her watch and groaned. "Too late for dinner."

The realization didn't seem to faze Tom, who closed the book he was looking at and stood up.

"Where are you going?" she asked. "The Great Hall is closed."

"_We_," Tom corrected grabbing her hand, "Are going to get food. Come on. The library is closing soon. We've had enough for tonight. Don't worry. We still have plenty more brainless, tedious work ahead of us."

He pulled her up and placed her bag on her shoulder. "Tom. The Great Hall is closed. How are we going to get food?"

"Come with me and I'll show you," he grinned. He placed his hands on her shoulders and propelled her out of the library. They walked down to the main floor and then down a few more flights of stairs towards the dungeons.

"This is ridiculous Tom. Where are you taking me?"

"I can't believe you've never done this, McGonagall," he said, stopping in front of a painting of a bowl of fruit.

"Done what?"

Tom tickled the pear at the edge of the fruit bowl and it transformed into a doorknob. Minerva's eyes widened as the portrait swung open. Tom placed a hand at the center of her back and led her inside. Seeing the bustling kitchens, she quickly turned to run away. Tom grabbed her by the arm.

"Let me go! We'll get in trouble."

"No we won't. I do this all the time."

Minerva gasped. "But the kitchens are out-of-bounds!"

"So?"

"You're a prefect!"

"So are you and look where you are. Come on. We're getting something to eat." A house elf appeared and looked expectantly up at Tom.

"Hello, Giggles. Could you please get Miss McGonagall and I whatever is left over from dinner. I'm afraid we lost track of time."

Giggles bowed deeply and grinned. "Most certainly, Master Riddle, sir. Whatever you ask."

Minerva folded her arms, but couldn't help being impressed by Tom's kindness to the elf. She hadn't expected as much.

Seconds later, the little elf appeared with a tray brimming with steaming food. Tom thanked him and they walked out through the portrait. Minerva took a deep breath.

"See? That wasn't so bad," Tom mused meeting her eyes.

Minerva tugged at his wrist and led him away from the door. "Let's get out of here before someone sees."

Tom smirked. "Before someone sees you coming out of the kitchens, or before someone sees you with me?"

"Both," she whispered distractedly.

Tom leaned forward. "So tell me, how do you plan on eating unless you're with me?"

"Naturally, you got something for me. Give it to me and I'll see you tomorrow." She reached for the tray, but Tom grabbed her hand instead.

"Ah, I don't think you're going to get off that easily." He sent her an disgustingly charming smile. "You'll eat dinner with me. Then you can go."

"Don't be absurd, Riddle. We'll get in trouble for being out after hours. We aren't on duty."

"No one's around, Minnie. We can go wherever we want."

Minerva stamped her foot on the ground. "Don't call me Minnie! You know that bothers me."

"I won't call you Minnie if you eat dinner with me."

Tom grinned to himself at the look of pure loathing on her face and he walked by. "Are you coming or not? This chicken looks absolutely divine."

Minerva was torn. She could smell the food, the odor wafting deliciously toward her, but she didn't want to give in to Tom. Finally, her stomach got the better of her and she hurried after him. They walked up flights and flights of stairs until they reached the top of the Astronomy tower. Tom flicked his wand and a blanket and candles appeared on the floor.

Minerva looked at him skeptically. This was turning into a very interesting evening.


	9. The Dinner

Thanks to whoever added my story to the McGonagall c2. That was pretty cool. You may have a hard time seeing where I'm going after this chapter, but bear with me. I have a direction, sort of. Minerva needs to get to the point where she trusts Tom before the story can really move. Anyway...enjoy and review!

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**The Dinner**

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Tom gazed at Minerva over the candles. He had to admit, she looked beautiful. At least he wasn't going to have to force himself to get close to her. That would physically be easy enough. The problem was the mental investment in the situation. He had to keep himself as distanced mentally as possible for his plan to work.

Minerva took a bite into a piece of cake. She looked up and saw him staring at her. Suddenly self-conscious, she blushed.

"What? Do I have food on my face?"

Tom smiled and shook his head.

"Well stop looking at me like that. You're making me nervous."

She rose and walked over to lean against the parapet. She shivered. It was November and all she had on for warmth was a jumper underneath her robes. Tom joined her and placed his cloak over her shoulders. She touched the velvety material and smiled shyly.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

A few minutes went by. They stood next to each other in a soft silence.

"The sky looks beautiful tonight," he said softly.

"Indeed it does."

They stood in silence for a few more minutes.

"Do you know where to find Cassiopeia?"

"I took Astronomy the same time as you did, Tom. What do you think?"

"I was just making conversation."

"And I was just teasing you."

"Oh."

Minerva shifted and gazed up at the sky. Minutes passed.

"Are you named after the goddess, Minerva?"

Minerva rolled around to face him. "Yes. My mother was a professor of Greek and Roman studies at a muggle university. I have an older brother named Apollo."

"She must have had quite a bit of foresight as well."

"Oh, and why is that?"

"She knew you were going to be so smart." Minerva turned bright red and turned away. Tom grinned. His flattery was working.

"Who are you named after?" she asked after a while. Tom's face grew dark. It was his fault she asked. He shouldn't have brought up the subject in the first place. Unless she knew; perhaps she asked just to see what his reaction would be. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Tom for my father. Marvolo for my grandfather."

"Oh." Minerva looked down at her feet. "I'm sorry Tom. I didn't know. I would never have asked-"

Tom studied her briefly, before believing her sincerity. "No worries. I've long gotten over it." He had, in truth, but only after he decided what he was going to do about it.

"Do you have any other siblings?" he asked, changing the subject.

Minerva shook her head. "I have a cat."

"Is it here?"

"Yes. It generally stays in my dormitory. I don't like bringing it to class because I'm afraid Slughorn will decide to test a potion on it, or someone will turn it into a teacup. I'm rather protective of it."

"That's understandable."

More silence followed. Tom was beginning to feel slightly awkward. He needed to act in order to keep his plan in action. He knew what he needed to do. He slowly reached over and ran his hand down the back of her neck. He felt her stiffen under the contact, then relax.

"Minerva?"

"Yes?"

"I need to tell you something."

His face drew closer to hers, but she didn't pull away.

"What?"

Her breathing was shallow now. Tom resisted the urge to enter her thoughts.

"I think that I figured out what Dumbledore's plan is."

Minerva tensed. Tom ran his hand down her shoulder to grasp her hand beneath his own.

"What is it?" she squeaked.

Tom closed a bit more distance between them. His mouth was only a few centimeters from her own. He spoke slowly in a husky tone. "I think that he wanted this to happen."

"This?" Minerva pulled away slightly. "What on earth do you mean?"  
"Can't you feel it, Minerva? Something is happening between the two of us. Something Dumbledore had to have foreseen."

"I don't understand."

Tom couldn't help but smile. For someone so smart, she was completely oblivious to anything emotional. He brushed a wayward piece of hair out of her eyes. She bit her lip.

"I think," he began inching closer to her, "that Dumbledore wanted us to be together."

Minerva's eyes shot open. "You mean…" Her voice faltered. "Like dating?"

"I mean, he wanted us to fall in love."

Tom wrapped his arms around her waist and stared deeply into her eyes. "What do you think about that, Miss McGonagall?"

"Did it?"

"Did it what?"

"Happen?"  
"You tell me." He brushed his thumb against her bottom lip.

Minerva seemed to be at a loss for words. She reached her arms around his neck to keep her balance. Tom waited patiently for her to give in. They stood suspended for a few moments.

"What on earth is the meaning of this?"

Minerva nearly dove across the room away from Tom. She caught her foot on the corner of the blanket and sprawled out across the floor. A very perturbed Defense Against the Dark Arts professor stood in the doorway in a pink bathrobe and slippers. Professor Merrythought put her hands on her hips. "I know you're going to tell me that this is not what it looks like, so you may as well get on with it."

Tom paused. He knew exactly what it looked like, and unfortunately for them it was exactly what it looked like. They _had_ been meeting in the Astronomy tower after hours on a date, they_ had _taken food from the kitchens after they missed dinner, he _had _been about to kiss her, and she _had_ been about to let him. He glanced from Minerva, her face filled with fear, to the picnic and candles on the floor.

"Well, Mr. Riddle?"

"It's not what it looks like, Professor," he said saucily. Minerva let out a slight gasp, but covered her mouth. "Minerva and I were on our way back from working on a project in the library. When we got to the entrance hall, we heard noises. It sounded as if someone was in the stairway up to the Astronomy tower. Well, as you know ma'am, we're both prefects, so we decided we needed to get to the bottom of it. We got to the top and there were two Hufflepuff fourth years having a little late night picnic up here. We startled them enough that they panicked. They sent a hex toward the doorway and unfortunately hit Miss McGonagall in the eye. They ran away before I could get their names." Tom took a deep breath.

Professor Merrythought tapped her foot. "And I suppose you were just helping Miss McGonagall with her eye when I walked in?" She sounded as if she didn't believe him, but also sounded as if she wasn't tired enough to care.

"You are incredibly perceptive, ma'am."

Merrythought thought for a few moments. "And you took an appropriate amount of points off of Hufflepuff?"

"Yes, ma'am," Tom replied.

"Very well, Mr. Riddle. Is your eye going to be okay, Miss McGonagall?" Minerva froze and nodded ever so slightly. "I suggest you two get to bed. If there is ever another incident like this, you need to find a staff member instead of handling it yourselves, is that clear?"

They both nodded apologetically.

"Goodnight."

She left and they waited until they could no longer hear her footsteps before cleaning up. Minerva slid to the floor in a daze. Tom knelt beside her.

"You okay?"

"I…I…" she stammered.

"Minerva?"

"You…and then…I…tower…what?" she babbled.

"It's okay Minerva. She's gone."

Minerva was shaking all over. "I can't believe you made me do that."

"Do what?"  
"Lie to a teacher!" She regained a certain degree of composure and stood up, wand extended. "I'm a terrible person! I've never done anything like that my entire life. I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself. I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you! I -"

"Minerva calm down. You're being irrational."

"I am NOT being irrational!"

Tom looked warily at her wand. He was unsure what she was actually going to do. "Minerva, give me the wand," he said slowly. She gripped it tighter. "Minerva, do you want to become a more terrible person by killing me? No, I didn't think so. Now let go of the wand and sit back down on the floor."

Minerva refused to budge. Her face was contorted in anger and confusion. Tom stepped to the side. Minerva's gaze and wand stayed fixed on the point where he had been standing before. Slowly, he gripped her wrist and removed the wand from her fingertips. She relaxed slightly and allowed him to lower her to the ground.

Tom let out a long breath. "You didn't really lie. She asked you if your eye was going to be okay. You nodded. Nothing was wrong with your eye, so it's going to be okay."

Minerva let out a small sob. "But I didn't do my duty. I should have turned myself in. I let her assume…"

Tom wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "_I_ let her assume. Blame me. Please. I wouldn't want you to get so upset about something so trivial. Now let's go before Slughorn or Dumbledore show up. If either of them saw us, I'd never be able to live it down."

Minerva smiled faintly. Tom flicked his wand and all evidence of the picnic disappeared.

"Tom?" she said grabbing his cloak.

He paused.

"Do you really think that's why Dumbledore wanted us to work on this together?"

Tom grabbed her hand and gently placed his lips against the curve of her palm. "I guess we'll see." With that, he dropped her hand and headed down to the Slytherin commons, leaving her to stew over the evenings events alone.

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What was he doing to her? Never in her entire life had she broken so many rules; and she had done it in one night! Minerva entered the Gryffindor common room and sank into a scarlet armchair in shock. Everything was so messed up.

She quickly grabbed for her bag and pulled out the book she had been perusing in the library. If all else failed in her attempts to keep Tom from her mind, she would engross her mind in something else. She read a few pages before growing frustrated and slamming the book shut. This wasn't working. What was it about him? He was absolutely infuriating!

The thing that bothered her the most was the thought that maybe he was right. Maybe Dumbledore did have an ulterior motive for requesting they work together. Maybe he had assumed that she would be unwilling to work with him without a good reason. Knowing Dumbledore, it would not be entirely out of the realm of possibility. He liked Tom. He was the reason Tom was at Hogwarts in the first place. Maybe he did want them to fall in-

No. This was stupid. She wasn't going to exalt him so high in her mind to think such an absurd thing. Tom Riddle was not going to change. Not now, not ever. That, she thought as she dropped the book back in her bag, was her final decision.

She only hoped he could change her mind.


	10. The Book

So...this chapter was a pain in the neck. I had to rewrite it twice before I got it to where I like it. Tom and Minerva are so twisted. Please review guys. It'd make me smile a little bit. Please?

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**The Book**

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Minerva sat in the library, engrossed in the magazine article, "Theoretical Theory: What Alchemist's Say Could or Could Not Be." She pulled a quill from behind her ear and began jotting down notes to herself. Her lips moved with the words and she muttered a little. She was tired. The lateness of the night before had only been doubled as she tossed and turned in her sleep.

Tom Riddle had kissed her; granted, it was on the hand, but he had kissed her. Minerva McGonagall! It didn't makes sense. He was the Slytherin prince - handsome, dashing, popular, and incredibly smart. She was the Gryffindor bookworm - reserved, uptight, unsociable, and while not being entirely devoid of a mind, had very little to show for physically. She was plain and that was fine with her; it had been fine with him too, until the night before.

"This is ridiculous, Minerva," she mumbled to herself. She grabbed another magazine from the stack she had procured and skimmed through it to find what she needed. She wrote furiously into the little notebook, not caring that ink was spattering the opposite page. She needed something to get him off her mind.

"I know. How about you focus all your attention on this painfully boring article on rocks? Doesn't that sound like a good plan?" she spat sarcastically. "Maybe then, you can fine the perfect rock to hit yourself over the head with!" She underlined a few things in her notes and plunged on. She dissected the rest of the articles in a few minutes and stood to find more. As she walked down towards the restricted section, she couldn't help but remember her dream from the beginning of the year. She suddenly felt a chill.

"You are being absolutely childish, Minerva," she chided herself. She inched closer to the back of the library and a slight movement in the corner of her eye caused her to jump. A dumpy little figure emerged. It was only Myrtle - who a person would indeed jump at the sight of, but was relatively harmless.

"Minerva!" Myrtle exclaimed. She sprang to her feet and grabbed the startled prefect's hand. "I've just been looking for someone I could tell."

"What is it, Myrtle?" Minerva asked through clenched teeth.

"Well," Myrtle began, brushing an invisible tear from her eye, "Olive Hornby said that I…"

"Myrtle," Minerva interrupted. "I believe I've told you a dozen times, but I'll say it once more. What Olive Hornby says or does to you is between you and her. Yes, I understand that she can be quite the twit to you sometimes, but I can do very little to solve that. I think that you should confront her about it and tell her how you feel. Okay?"

"But, Minerva…"

"Myrtle." Minerva sighed. She felt as if she was trying to explain to a three-year-old why a burning cauldron was hot. "I am very busy right now. Do you understand? I am working on a very important project for Professor Dumbledore and I cannot be disturbed. I don't want you to come near me unless it's an absolute emergency. Okay?"

Myrtle's face contorted and she looked like she was going to cry. She nodded and turned.

"So is it true about you and Professor Dumbledore, then?" she asked before walking away.

Minerva stopped short. "What do you mean?" she seethed.

"Well, that you're…well…you know…"

Minerva spun around so fast that a very surprised Myrtle fell backwards over a bench. "Who told you that?" she barked.

"Well, I heard Olive say something about it while I was crying in the bathroom, but she heard it from Perry who heard it from his Slytherin girlfriend who I think originally heard it from her old boyfriend who - as you know- is Titus Avery who most likely heard it from -"

"Tom Riddle," Minerva finished firmly.

"How did you know?" Myrtle asked with wide eyes. "I never would have guessed it myself since you never talk to Tom Riddle, except that I heard it from Olive and she tends to know about all the…"

"I'm going to kill him," Minerva growled under her breath. She turned and walked away from Myrtle who continued to tell the story. She unhooked the latch to the restricted section, grabbed the book she wanted - a dilapidated looking text with chipped gold lettering reading "Vivo Vixi Victum", and tucked it under her arm. She couldn't believe the nerve of him - spreading a rumor that he knew perfectly well wasn't true.

"You're losing it, Minerva," she said under her breath.

She stalked back to the desk and slammed the book down. Why did he have to make everything so much more complicated than it needed to be? She opened the book up and began scanning the pages for information. Her eyes stopped as she came across something she hadn't been expecting, causing her to completely forget about Tom Riddle. How could Hogwarts even have a book like this? This was dark, dark magic.

She turned another page. "Sweet Merlin," she murmured.

"Talking to yourself again, Minerva? Really. People will think that you've gone batty. I already knew, but I see you every day. Now the general public will begin to see you that you're completely nutters. Maybe you should stick to…"

"Shut it Tom and come have a look at this," Minerva commanded without looking up. Tom appeared over her shoulder and looked at the page she was reading. He swore slightly under his breath.

"Are you sure Dumbledore meant for us to use this?" Minerva questioned. She set it down as Tom hurriedly flipped through the pages. "It's great stuff, but can Flamel even put it in his book? That is highly illegal; all of it!"

Tom plopped down in the chair next to her. He looked as if he had received a sharp blow to the chest. Slowly, he came back to his senses. "Flamel? I thought Dumbledore was -"

Minerva leaned her head back. She had forgotten that he didn't know and that she wasn't supposed to tell him. "Hmm?" She decided to play innocent.

"Flamel? As in Nicholas Flamel? He actually _has_ the stone? He succeeded?" Tom ran his fingers through his hair. Minerva glanced at him. She couldn't read the expression on his face. He seemed on edge, or excited, or something else entirely.

Minerva shrugged. "He might have. I don't really know. I just heard Dumbledore mention his name."

"Minerva! He attempted to create the stone six hundred years ago, and you're telling me he's still alive? He most certainly did succeed! None of this 'might have' stuff."

"I don't think that this new piece of information changes the nature of what we're doing."

Tom stood agitatedly, ignoring her. "Then, maybe this is a real project. Maybe there isn't something he wanted us to find, unless…" He grabbed for the large book in front of them. "Unless it's this! Maybe this is what we were supposed to stumble across!"

"Surely Dumbledore wouldn't -"

"But what if he did?"

"That's ridiculous Tom. It's just an old, dark book. Dumbledore must not have realized the contents if he put it on the list. There is no reason whatsoever why we should need a book with such powerful magic." Minerva pried the book from his hands and began walking to back to the restricted section. Tom dashed after her.

"Are you putting it back?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course I'm putting it back. It is of no use to us."

"Wait Minerva." He stepped in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Maybe somehow this book is the key to defeating Grindewald. Maybe we should dig a little deeper. Read through it a bit."

Minerva pushed past him, still clutching the book. "I have no desire to pollute my mind with such horrific sentiment as is in this book. I am putting it back and I am notifying Dumbledore of its contents immediately. I should think the ministry shall want to remove it from this library as soon as possible."

Tom took a deep breath and tried another tactic. "Think about it. This book could be the key to Grindewald's power. He has escaped from so many battles unscathed. He might have -"

"He wouldn't. No one would."

Tom lifted her chin and looked into her eyes seriously. "Some people would do anything for power," he said hauntingly. His eyes seemed to emanate a red glow and Minerva suddenly became frightened. She backed into one of the bookshelves. "Anything. There are people out there who would gladly sell their souls for a chance to gain power. Do not delude yourself with the silly little Gryffindor idea that everyone has some good in them." He took a step closer and Minerva cringed. "There are people who would torture, and steal, and kill for the pleasure of it - to feel that they have power over someone weaker. There are some people who are nothing but evil. Nothing. Do not forget that, Minerva."

Her eyes were wide open in pure, unadulterated fear. Her breathing became short. Slowly, she handed the book to him. His countenance immediately changed from unnervingly serious to its normal indifference. "Thank you Minerva. I promise we'll put it back as soon as we're through. I think you're right that it is no book for a library to have. Especially one so - wholesome - as this one."

Minerva laughed nervously. He had attempted to make a snarky comment to ease her unease, that was apparent. But why? Why had he suddenly grown so distant? Was that even the right word? Cold, dark, malevolent. Now that was perhaps a bit to strong.

He walked away. Minerva's feet were still glued to the floor. He stopped and waited for her. She regained feeling in her limbs and scurried after him. They sat down at the table facing each other. Tom studied her tired eyes. "Merlin, Minerva. You really should get more sleep. Those bags under your eyes look big enough to hide a hippogriff."

"That's easy for you to say, Riddle."

"Oh?" Tom's eyes lit up and he leaned over her. "And why is that?"

Minerva colored and stared blankly at the note she had been about to right. Where had that thought gone?

"Minnie. I asked you a question."

"Ah ah," she grinned looking up. "I went to dinner with you. I stayed out past curfew. I got caught about to - I got caught by a teacher. I held up my end of the bargain, so now it's your turn. You are no longer ever able to use that name again. My name is Minerva. Of course, if you feel like being a true gentleman you can refer to me as Miss McGonagall."

"Those are my only options?" Tom asked deviously.

"Yes. I believe they adequately serve their purpose. Although, I also would not be entirely opposed to you ceasing contact with me altogether."

"What if I decide you need a name that only I know?" Minerva tilted her head. What was he getting at?

"Then I suppose I cannot stop you from using it when you are talking to yourself. I, however, do not wish to hear it uttered from you lips."

"And other various forms of endearment?"

"I have no idea what that is supposed to mean Tom Riddle."

"Well, obviously it means that I plan on becoming endeared to you."

"You are insane." Minerva scribbled something down and snapped her quill in half.

"A little bit on the edge there, darling?"

Minerva's cheeks burned scarlet. She looked around to see if anyone was lurking about watching them. There was a group of sixth years a few yards away, but it didn't look as if anyone had heard. "Tom, I'm warning you…"

"What's wrong, my sweet?"

"Stop it Riddle."

"Now really dearest, if I am not allowed to chose what name I call you, you must discontinue this use of my surname. It really isn't fitting."

"I swear I'll…" She grabbed for her wand and held it to his face. He calmly batted it away and ruffled his hair in the same sweeping gesture.

"Pumpkin, I know you'd never hurt me." Pumpkin? Had he just referred to her as Pumpkin? Minerva watched him grin smugly. So that was it. He was baiting her. He didn't think she would actually hurt him? Well, he had messed with the wrong girl.

"_Perversum_!" she hissed. Tom's eyes widened and he flipped over the back of his chair, flew about twelve feet in the air, and landed squarely on his back at the table where the sixth years were sitting. The girls jumped up in surprise and one of them screamed, while the boys turned to see who had launched the spell. Minerva's mouth dropped. She hadn't expected him to fly quite so far.

Tom groaned and sat up. He looked from the startled sixth years to a nearly fainting Minerva and bit back a smile. "Good show, Minerva!" he called loudly. "Let's try it again. This time, aim more for the top of the shelves."

Madame Pince appeared from behind a bookcase and barked a few things out at the students. Minerva clutched the back of her chair for support as the librarian swooped over the sixth years, asking them questions about the nature of their business in the library. Tom settled it for them, whispered a few word to them, and then returned to Minerva. She was standing, gripping the chair so tightly that her knuckles were white, and swaying slightly. Tom said nothing, but allowed her to fall directly into his arms as she sank into a dead faint.


	11. The Classroom

Thanks for the reviews guys! They were of exceptional quality, despite their decidedly abysmal quantity (not that I'm bitter). I'll just remind you before reading this chapter that I do have a direction with this story. I'm pretty careful with the dialogue and descriptions I use, so many things that may seem out of place probably are and have a part later on in the story. Characterization may seem a bit off in the next few chapters, especially for Tom, but I assure you he will return.

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**The Classroom**

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Tom swept Minerva into his arms and carried her out of the library, ignoring the stares he received from the other side of the room. He smiled impishly as he looked down at her serene, unconscious face. He had never seen her so peaceful. Feeling the slight twitch of revenge pulling in his mind, he took her to an empty classroom rather than the hospital wing. She was going to be mad when she woke up, and he didn't want to get shooed out and miss the fun. He drew up a quick cushioning charm and placed her gently on the floor. Now all he had to do was wait.

He had to admit. She had surprised him. He had been trying to provoke her, but he had underestimated her powers of retaliation. Imagine, Minerva McGonagall attacking another student - better yet, another prefect. He chuckled. She was going to be_ very_ mad when she woke up.

Tom settled himself into a chair and kicked his feet up on the desk. So much had gone on, he had nearly forgotten about the book. It was something, it really was. Never before had he held something that ached of so much power. He was glad Minerva had given it back, however reluctantly.

He glanced out the window at the sun that was swiftly disappearing over the horizon. It was later than he thought. The room became dark, except for a single beam of light from the doorway that fixed itself right upon Minerva.

He tipped his head to watch her as she began to stir. Her eyes opened and she rubbed her head in confusion at the sight of her surroundings. "Tom?" she asked quietly. He was in plain sight, but her eyes hadn't grown accustomed to the darkened room. He didn't answer. He could see her begin to shake as she struggled to her feet. A sharp draft snapped the door shut. "Tom!" she cried out in fear.

He was at her side in seconds. "I'm here Minerva. It's alright," he said almost lazily.

She let out a haggard breath and threw her arms around his neck. "I-I-you scared me! I thought I was all alone and I didn't know how I got here and -"

Tom clutched her tightly to his chest, smirking slightly. He hadn't even planned this stunt. She had done it to herself. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't really think about it." Minerva let out a muffled cry and buried her head in his robes. She was still shaking furiously. Tom began to feel a bit concerned. "Minerva? What is wrong?"

Minerva drew a breath quickly. Tom could feel tears seeping into his clothes. He hadn't expected this.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"By the look of it, you are certainly not fine. Please tell me what's wrong."

"It just - It reminded me of dreams I've had about this castle," she whispered.

Tom wiped a tear from her eye. "You're awake and I'm here," he assured her. "You have nothing to worry about."

Minerva fingered his sleeve agitatedly. "You don't understand. They seem so real."

Tom lit one of the torches on the wall with his wand and slowly sat Minerva down into a chair. "What happens?" he asked.

Minerva shuddered. "I'm usually somewhere I feel safe - the common room or the library - and then I run into this thing -" Her breath seized up. "I suppose he's a man. He chases me and chases me and then-"

"Then what?"

"That's it. Darkness. The end. I don't really know. I wake up on the floor in a cold sweat with tears pouring down my face."

Tom scratched his head. "How often do the dreams occur?"

"Most nights."

"They don't sound like normal dreams. Is there something that could be triggering them?"

Minerva placed her head in her hands. "I don't know. It seemed like I got them more after my father disappeared, but I really have no idea. I could just be nutters."

Tom frowned. "I didn't mean that. I was only teasing you."

"Maybe you were right. It wouldn't be the first time."

"You are most definitely correct about that, my dear," Tom smirked.

Minerva's eyes widened when she realized why she had fainted in the first place. "The library," she murmured. "Tom, I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me. You were teasing me and I just got so mad and I -"

Tom put his arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry about it Minerva. I'm sort of proud of you for actually casting a spell at me. Most people would have been too afraid that I would fight back."

Minerva decided not to make a comment about the fact that she had no fear about fighting back. She was too upset. "But what am I going to do? I'm a prefect, Tom. Those sixth years. They saw me and they'll tell everyone. I'll be sacked for sure."

Tom rolled his eyes. This was not the reasonable Minerva McGonagall he was used to dealing with. "First of all, you cannot get sacked from a non-paying position. Secondly, I told them we were just practicing spells out on each other for a class. Thirdly, who cares? No one's going to care one whit if you hexed me into the next universe. It's me. I'm sodding Tom Riddle, for Merlin's sake."

"You covered for me?" Minerva asked. "Again?"

"Yes again," Tom answered in an annoyed tone. "And if I have to do it again, I am going to be very displeased, Miss McGonagall. What has gotten into you? Out at all hours of the night and using magic outside the classroom? And you call yourself a prefect." Minerva looked as though she was going to cry again, until she noted the teasing tone in Tom's voice. She smiled slightly through her tears and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. You're right. It will never happen again."

Tom grinned at her waywardly. "Well…if it happens to lead to you putting your head on my shoulder, I'm going to have to insist that it does happen again."

Minerva bit her lip. They sat in silence for a few moments as Tom ran his hand soothingly down her arm. "Why did you say that no one would care if I hexed you?" Minerva finally asked.

"I think you of all people would understand that," Tom scoffed.

"It's not true, you know. There are plenty of people who'd care."

"Name three."

"Fine, if you're going to be difficult. Avery and Lestrange, of course."

"They have no choice."

"They do too. Dumbledore, Dippet, Slughorn."

"Also have no choice. They're teachers."

"I'd care."

"Of course you would. You'd be the one throwing the hexes."

Minerva folded her arms and leaned towards him stubbornly. "Why are you being so difficult, Riddle?"

Tom mimicked her and folded his arms as well. "Because you make it so easy, McGonagall." They frowned at each other for a few moments. Tom sent her a small grin. He quickly took her face in his hands and, before she could protest, slammed his lips against hers. Sparks shot through to his fingertips as she allowed herself to be pulled in closer. Tom inhaled sharply.

He slithered his hand down to the small of her back. She gasped slightly at the contact and pulled away. Tom touched his forehead against hers. "I also think that your eyes look beautiful when you're angry," he added. He kissed her lightly on the lips and strode from the room.

* * *

Minerva took a few deep breaths to analyze the situation. Tom Riddle had kissed her - _really_ kissed her. And then he had left, again. No. He was not going to get away with that this time. She pulled herself up out of the chair and rushed after him. He was just reaching the end of the hallway when she appeared.

"Tom Riddle, don't you dare walk away from me," she said stubbornly. He stopped and turned.

"Whatever do you need, Miss McGonagall?" he asked slyly.

"I want you to explain," she huffed as she stomped towards him, "what in Merlin's name _that_ was!"

"That?" he asked innocently. "You're going to have to explain whatever it is you are attempting to describe more eloquently than 'that.' I'm afraid I don't know what 'that' you're talking about."

Minerva shoved her hands into her pockets. He was not going to make this easy, was he?

"You know perfectly well what 'that' I'm speaking of."

"Oh do I? How about you enlighten me?"

"Tom! Don't be a such a beast! You know exactly what I'm referring to."

Tom grinned. "Well, if you can't tell me in words, I'm afraid you'll just have to show me."

Minerva stomped angrily on the floor. "The kiss, you fiend. That little thing you kindly bestowed upon me, without my consent I might add, in the empty classroom two minutes ago."

"Oh, well you've answered your own question. It was a kiss." Tom grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "You really are a smart little witch, aren't you?"

"Tom -" she warned.

"What, Miss McGonagall?"

Her face relaxed. "I suppose I'm more asking _why_, than what."

Tom continued to hold her hand. "I think it would be easier to explain why not. The list of _whys_ is much to long. Let's see. You're intelligent, witty, charming, a formidable opponent, a bloody good quidditch player, driven, and oh so deliciously beautiful I can hardly take my eyes off you." Minerva was stunned. She had been looking more for - well, not that for sure.

"Do you wish me to continue? The list goes on. I wouldn't want you lose sleep as I ramble."

"No," Minerva said dizzily. "I think that covers it." She walked past in in a daze up towards the Gryffindor commons.

"May I escort you home, milady?" Tom asked happily.

Minerva nodded, unable to speak. The past few days had been a bit too much for her to handle. Minerva fit her fingers into the crook of his arm as it was offered to her. They walked slowly up to Gryffindor tower, not meeting anyone in the halls. Minerva mused vaguely that everyone was at dinner. They approached the portrait of the fat lady and Minerva muttered, "_Anser Capistro_." The door swung open.

"Good night, Minerva," he said. She slowly released his arm from her grasp.

"Tom, I…"

"I'll see you in the morning. Get some rest. Make sure you wake all your roommates up if you have another bad dream."

"Tom."

"For me?" he pleaded.

Minerva sighed at his inability to sustain as serious conversation with her. "Goodnight Tom."

She entered the portrait and it closed tightly behind her.


	12. The Rounds

This chapter serves more to further the mystery, than the Tom/Minerva stuff, so sorry if you're looking for romance. I'm not all that great at writing anything mushy anyway. I would like to thank my great reviewers, cinnamon heart, MandaPandaAR, stsgirlie, and chilly for your support. I'm not planning on stopping this story anytime soon, but it's great to know that people are reading it and liking it. You guys made my day. Here's another chapter. Enjoy it and keep reviewing!

* * *

**The Rounds**

* * *

End-of-term exams were approaching rapidly and Minerva was struggling to obtain her usual sense of over-preparedness. She spent her mornings at classes, her afternoons in the library with Tom, and her evenings in Gryffindor tower studying diligently, if not overzealously, for her exams. On top of everything else, she still had quidditch practice and her prefect duties to attend to. She rarely made it to meals, and she was lucky if she got more than a few hours of sleep, and she was beginning to wonder if accepting the project was such a good idea after all.

Minerva sat rigidly at a table in the Gryffindor common room pouring over her arithmancy notes from two years before. She knew that it probably was unnecessary, but she also refused to make a mistake that could cost her the full marks she was accustomed to receiving. She glanced at her watch. It was almost time for rounds.

She placed a bookmark in her notes and shoved a few things in her bag. Although the common room was deserted, she knew that with her luck some ill-fated butterbeer would find a way to stain the pages of her meticulous notebook. She grabbed her wand, leaving the bag on the table, and walked out the door. The hallway was deserted, so she walked towards the west side of the castle to find Josiah Smelting, the Ravenclaw prefect.

A few nervous Gryffindors ran by her, stammering that they had been serving detention with Professor Slughorn and were not out past curfew. Minerva allowed them to pass, and they dashed off. She caught a few more students out and sent them back to their dormitories. The hallways were unusually busy for a night so close to exams. Minerva assumed it was just nerves. She found the entrance to Ravenclaw tower and waited. No one appeared.

After waiting for twenty minutes, she approached a rather agitated-looking portrait of a tiny witch. "Have you seen a Ravenclaw prefect leave the tower lately?" she asked.

The witch shook her head. "N-n-no b-b-but I d-d-did see a Slytherin p-p-prefect about an hour ago." Minerva glanced at the inscription at the bottom of the portrait - Sabina the Stuttering. It figured.

"Really," she mused. "Was it a boy or a girl?:

"B-b-boy."

"Tall, with black hair and dark brown eyes?"

"P-p-perhaps. It was d-d-dark and I c-c-couldn't see all that well."

Minerva tapped her wand absentmindedly on her leg. "Did he say anything or meet anyone?"

The little witch in the portrait shifted uneasily. "He t-t-talked to the Ravenclaw portrait. I d-d-didn't listen. I'm n-n-no eavesdropper." Minerva rolled her eyes. The portraits and their chivalry. She thanked Sabina the Stuttering and walked over to speak to the arrogant portrait of Balfour Bane.

"Ah, Miss McGonagall. Have you come to make another attempt at charming the suits of armor? I did so enjoy your abysmal failure last time."

"Shove off, Bane," Minerva grumbled. He had watched one of her first charms experiments her first year and had yet to let her forget it. "I just wanted to know what Tom Riddle said to you about an hour ago."

The large figure in the portrait adjusted his spectacles and smiled. "Mr. Riddle. Of course. I had forgotten the malicious things you two did to each other your first few years. He was always so much better at you in everything, especially charms. He is quite the wizard with that phoenix wand of his. It's a pity you cannot move past your pride and allow him to teach you something useful. Transfiguration is so overdone." Minerva gripped her wand and wondered how rewarding it would feel to hex a portrait.

"Yes, yes," she replied with a sigh. "He's better than me and smarter than me and always will be. Now, what did he say to you? I need to find him."

"So you finally admit it? I cannot wait to gloat to the Fat Lady. She said you'd never give in. Gryffindor pride, ha!"

"Bane. Please."

The portrait glared at her. "I don't think Tom would want me to tell you."

"Yes, but I must know. I was supposed to meet Josiah Smelting a half hour ago for rounds and he did not arrive. Tom may know where he is."

"Now I understand why you weren't in Ravenclaw. You haven't nearly the reasoning power."

"Just tell me!"

The tall wizard folded his arms and grinned smugly. "Why should I?"

"I can't believe I'm arguing with a painting," Minerva mumbled under her breath. "If you will just tell me where Tom Riddle is, I'll allow him to teach me something. How's that?"

"Good," Bane replied. Minerva sighed. Finally they were getting somewhere. "But I don't believe you."

Minerva groaned in frustration and turned to the other portraits in the hallway. "Did any of you hear what Tom said? I just need to get on with my rounds so I can go back to studying for exams. That's all I want."

"Well maybe if you were smart, like Tom or a Ravenclaw, you wouldn't have to study so much," the Ravenclaw portrait taunted. None of the other portraits spoke.

Minerva drew very close to Bane's portrait and looked him straight in the eye. "You are lucky I'm not two dimensional, or I'd come in there and -"

"Miss McGonagall, what on earth are you doing?"

Minerva closed her eyes and turned to face Headmaster Dippet.

"Sir, I…"

"She was threatening me, sir," Bane interrupted. Dippet frowned.

"That is ridiculous," Minerva snapped at the portrait. "Sir, I was only trying to find out where  
Tom Riddle is. Josiah Smelting did not show up for prefect rounds and I know that Tom was in this hallway earlier this evening. I thought Tom might have taken Josiah's shift. Balfour Bane refused to give me any of the information I needed."

Dippet approached Minerva and cast a stern glance at the portrait. "While I do not see any reason for you to disturb the portraits, Miss McGonagall. I understand that you were only thinking of your duties."

"Thank you sir." She smiled happily at the Ravenclaw portrait who was fuming.

"As for Tom Riddle, he's been with me for the past hour."

"Oh." Minerva looked down at the floor. "And Smelting?"

"I do not know. Do you Sir Bane?"

The portrait shook his head. Minerva furrowed her brow.

"Very well then." The headmaster turned to Minerva. "I suggest you learn to improvise, Miss McGonagall, and do the rounds by yourself. I should think you would be competent enough to accomplish that." Minerva's mouth dropped. She had never gotten along well with the headmaster. He felt that she was too high-strung for the position of prefect and had qualms about her grasp on magic, mostly due to Tom's insistence regarding both. Dumbledore had been the driving force that cemented her position as prefect.

"But Headmaster…"

"I think that will be all Miss McGonagall."

"Yes, sir."

She waited until he had turned the corner before turning her wand threateningly on Balfour Bane. "I may not be as smart as Tom Riddle," she spat, "but I do know a simple _incendio_ charm." Bane's eyes opened wide and Minerva walked away. She did not want to be alone in the hallways, especially not so late at night. It was nearing eleven o'clock and the castle had suddenly become deadly quiet.

Minerva kept her wand out as she walked cautiously down the corridors. After touring the third and fourth floors, she decided to check the sub-levels before she lost her nerve. The kitchen corridor and Hufflepuff wing were empty. She took a deep breath and descended to the dungeons. The smell of sulfur and bad cabbage filled her nose as she peeked into the potions classroom. No one was there, except Slughorn asleep at his desk. She grimaced and walked out. A small creak from one of the other rooms caused her hair to stand on end.

Looking furtively over her shoulder, she approached one of the smaller dungeon rooms. A crack in the old, wooden door was emitting a small beam of light. Minerva slowly reached to open the door and it slammed open into her. She let out a strangled yelp and flew onto the floor.

The light in the now open door illuminated a large figure. "Minerva! Wha' are ya doin' here?" a deep voice asked in surprise. Minerva's eyes adjusted and she took a deep breath.

"I should ask you the same thing, Rubeus. You are out past hours. What do you think you are doing down here?"

The large boy ambled out of the room and closed the door behind him. "Pas' hours?" he asked. "Wha' time is i'?"

Minerva allowed him to pull her to her feet and primly brushed the dust from her robes. "Half past eleven, Rubeus," she answered sternly. "I'm going to have to take off points."

Rubeus hung his head. It wasn't the first time he had lost house points. "Yeah, I s'pose ya would. Go 'head." Minerva sighed and motioned for him to come with her. "I mus' a jus' lost track a' time workin' on Potions." He shifted his eyes and shook his bushy head of hair. "Sorry."

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor." She hated doing it to him, but it was her job as a prefect. "Rubeus, do you mind walking with me on the rest of my rounds?" she asked. "I'm afraid I am all alone tonight and I keep getting startled by the most silly things." His large face perked up.

"I'd love to, Minerva. If'n ya don' mind me too much."

"I could use the company, Rubeus. Now come along." They made an odd-looking pair as they trudged around the castle. Minerva was tall, but looked like a dwarf next to Hagrid. He ambled along, chatting about his classes and how he wanted a dragon. Minerva pretended to listen, but her mind was elsewhere. What could Tom have asked the Ravenclaw portrait? And where was Smelting?

They continued their walk and finally headed towards Gryffindor tower. Hagrid stomped up to his dormitory and Minerva headed back to her studies. She surveyed the table and found that it was exactly how she had left it. Good. She was not in the mood to track down whoever moved her things.

She glanced at her watch - it was twelve o'clock. Her thoughts flew to Tom again. There were only five more days until Christmas break when she would have time to ask him about the Ravenclaw tower and his discussion with Headmaster Dippet. She glanced at her notes and buried her head in her hands. She needed to concentrate.

She hastily wrote out a few things and began the mathematical calculations she needed for a practice problem, but she could not get her mind off the evening. Distractedly, she shuffled around in her bag for a different subject. A book fell and knocked over her bottle of ink. Her hands tensed in frustration and her quill snapped in half. It was going to be a long night.


	13. The Announcement

* * *

**The Announcement**

* * *

Tom sat at breakfast staring across the room. Minerva was sitting next to her friends reading a book, as usual. He couldn't help but smile a little. She was so incredibly rigid, it almost seemed as if it had to be an act. She had barely spoken to him since the night of the kiss. True, she was incredibly preoccupied with preparing for exams, but she seemed to be avoiding all mention of Dumbledore's plan or the kiss itself. 

He wasn't really sure what had possessed him to kiss her. It was part of his plan to gain her trust, but it wasn't all that necessary. Tom let out a swift breath - her eyes _did_ look amazingly beautiful when she was angry. He only wished she would let something slip. It wasn't likely, considering Minerva's incredibly stubborn nature, but it was possible she might someday let her guard down around him.

He glanced at her again. Her hair was pulled back in its normal fashion - stern and rigid. Her eyes drooped slightly and she rested her chin on one hand. She looked exhausted. Tom thought back to the night before. He had an idea of what had kept her awake. Rubeus Hagrid was not the stealthiest student at Hogwarts, and Tom had become incredibly aware of his presence stomping through the hallways and talking at the top of his lungs about dragons. He had seen them both on his way back to the Slytherin common room, but was fairly certain they had overlooked him.

"Hey Riddle," Titus Avery called, jabbing him in the side. Tom frowned. "My mum says it's alright if you come to the manor for Christmas. Do you want to?" Avery held up a letter that his owl had just brought him and waved it in Tom's face.

Tom pushed the letter away and drank some of his tea. "I'm staying here. I already told you, remember?"

"Well yes, but I thought you would want to get away from that McGonagall freak for a while. She's staying -"

His sentence was interrupted by a suffocating pull at his neck. His eyes ran to Tom in fear.

"What did you call her?" Tom growled.

"Nothing," Avery rasped. "I only meant…"

Tom's wand lay idle at his side as his fist clutched tighter. Avery gasped in pain. Tom suddenly realized what was happening.

"I have to work with her. That's all I meant," Tom mumbled. The pressure on Avery's neck subsided. "Call her whatever you want."

Lestrange and a few other Slytherins looked at Tom in shock. Avery was shaking slightly.

Tom felt their stares and slammed his hand down on the table. "I hate her and she's a bloody nuisance, okay? Does that make you happy?"

That seemed to appease the rest of the table and they resumed their breakfasts. Avery, however, turned to Tom. "What is she doing to you, Tom?" he asked.

"Nothing." Tom sighed. He was going to have to tell them about the plan at some time. "If you must know, I think she's spying on me for Dumbledore."

Avery scowled. "And that makes you want to defend her?"

"No of course not. I've just been doing my best to get on her good side - if you know what I mean - to see if I can gather any information. We've been working together very closely, so I'm sort of used to protecting her. That was it."

"That was wandless magic, Riddle. You have to really mean it for it to work."

"I didn't," Tom snarled. "It was completely subconscious. Do not lecture me on things you know nothing about."

"Whatever," Avery muttered. "So that's a no for Christmas?"

"I'm staying here - with McGonagall. I have to know what she's telling Dumbledore. I do not take kindly to people meddling in my affairs. She is going to know what it's like to go up against Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Avery glanced over his shoulder and looked at the Gryffindor prefect who was still immersed in her book. "So are you going to have to -" he winced "talk with her on a regular basis?"

Tom grunted slightly in frustration. "I'm seducing her, you idiot. Of course I'm going to have talk to her often. Were you born this stupid, or did someone drop you on your head?"

"S-seduce her?" Avery hissed incredulously. He apparently had not caught Tom's full meaning. A few people looked their way, including a couple of Ravenclaws at the next table. "Minerva McGonagall? Are you bloody well out of your mind?"

"Quiet, you imbecile. Do you want everyone in the school to hear?"

Avery leaned forward and lowered his voice. "What makes you think that she'll trust you? You've never gotten along. She hates you."

Tom smirked slightly. "I happen to have a few reasons already," he replied smugly. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table. "Though I think the best way to a woman is through her best friend, don't you think?" At the other table, Avalon Figg shrieked something loudly at Minerva who rolled her eyes.

Avery suddenly understood. "I guess so. I don't know how you're going to do it, but good luck." He dug into his breakfast. Tom lowered his eyes. Had he really just said all that to someone? Oh well, it was better that way. At least now he would have an excuse if he an Minerva ever - well Avery would know the truth. The truth. As if there was even such a thing anymore.

Tom's thoughts were suddenly broken with a loud voice at the front of the Great Hall. "Attention students," Headmaster Dippet said. He cleared his throat loudly. The hall quieted some, but a few whispers continued. Dippet ignored them and continued in his low, droning voice.

"Effective immediately, all students will return to their dormitories immediately following dinner. The only exception will be the prefects who will now be performing their duties every night." Tom looked across the room at Minerva, who looked incredibly annoyed at the news. Dippet surveyed the now silent room gravely. "I would suggest that you stay together in groups," he said cryptically. "This castle is not always as safe it seems. Oh, and I would like to see the Head Boy and Girl and the prefects in the room adjoining following the meal."

The hall broke out into worried whispers as the headmaster sat down.

Tom froze. That was it? That was all the explanation he was going to give? He wasn't even going to say what happened to cause these new regulations? He looked up at the head table. The professors all looked incredibly ill at ease.

"What do you think happened, Tom?" a second year Slytherin girl asked him nervously.

He patted her on the shoulder slightly. "I wouldn't worry about it. The headmaster doesn't always have a reason behind his actions." The girl bit her lip and ran to the end of the table to sit with her friends. A few of the older Slytherins snickered.

"Oh, grow up," Tom hissed.

He finished his meal and stood to join the rest of the prefects in the room at the back of the Great Hall. It was magnificently furnished, but cold. Sunlight streamed in through the windows doing little except to light the room. Minerva stood by the window. Tom took a seat next to the empty fireplace. They looked at each other.

"Where were you last night?" Minerva asked quietly as the rest of the prefects streamed in and began chatting.

"I had a meeting with Dippet. Then I went to bed. Why?"

Minerva shifted nervously. "The Ravenclaw portrait said that he spoke with you."

Tom examined her quickly. She looked peaked and suspicious and slightly apprehensive. Before he could reply, Dippet and a few professors entered the room.

"I have called all of you here to inform you that one of your own has fallen under attack."

The prefects gasped. Tom rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe the extent of Dippet's dramatics.

The diminutive headmaster strode forward and whirled to face them. "Last night, Josiah Smelting disappeared." Tom searched Minerva's eyes to see if she was at all shocked; she didn't seem to be. "He was found early this morning by Professor Merrythought. He was stunned, in a full body bind. His clothes were torn, his face was bruised, and when asked what happened we found that someone had wiped his memory."

Tom surveyed the prefects who seemed to all take the news differently. The Ravenclaw prefects were, of course, exceedingly fearful for their friend. The Slytherin prefects looked indifferent. The Hufflepuff prefects seemed worried, while the Gryffindor prefects were whispering about avenging Smelting. None of their reactions were at all surprising.

"Where is he now, sir?" one of the Ravenclaw prefects asked.

"Josiah is now in the care of Madame DuMedici and Poppy Pomfrey where he will stay until Christmas break. If he is well enough, he will return home for the holidays. The shock, however, may not have worn off by then. He is severely distressed."

Dumbledore folded his arms and looked directly at Tom who recoiled slightly. Did he suspect something? Minerva also glanced his direction, but didn't make eye contact.

"It is imperative that all of you are alert about the possibility of this happening again. You will tour the school in pairs, as usual, but all of you will have a task each night until we apprehend whoever did this. Professor Dumbledore will brief you on your duties. I only want to convey the gravity of the situation. Do you understand?" Everyone in the room nodded solemnly.

"Headmaster?" One of the Hufflepuff prefects raised her hand. Dippet looked at her pointedly. "Why would anyone do something like this?"

"That is what we are trying to uncover, Miss Marquette," Dippet replied coolly. "I only hope that his status as a muggleborn did nothing to inflame the prejudice that has so recently tainted the wizarding world through Grindelwald." On that cryptic note, he swept from the room.

Dumbledore cleared his throat to quiet the whispers that had erupted with the headmaster's departure, and the prefects fell silent. "Now for your assignments. You will stay at your posts from six o'clock to nine o'clock and may then retire to bed. Report anything and everything of a suspicious nature to your head of house." He pulled out a piece of parchment and began reading off names. "Parkinson and Hopkins, North Tower. Marquette and Applegate, Astronomy Tower…" Tom tuned out, vaguely listening for his name. Dumbledore had mixed up the pairs so that they were in different houses. He wasn't surprised. The transfiguration professor was constantly promoting inter-house relations.

"Churley and Bones, fifth floor…" Tom snuck a look at Minerva. She would have looked reasonably calm, if it were not for her tight grip on the windowsill that was turning her knuckles white. He smirked slightly. Her thoughts were so easy to read.

"Turner and Grassley, third floor…" Dumbledore continued his list. People murmured as he said their names and met eyes with their partner. He finished the list, down to the dungeons. Tom realized his name had not been called. "Ah yes, one more," Dumbledore said, reading his thoughts. "McGonagall and Riddle, if you two would please tour the grounds. The headmaster seems to think someone from the outside may have come in and I believe you are both capable of handling yourselves in a less-than-amiable encounter."

Minerva let out a sigh. Tom grinned. They would have more than enough time to talk about the kiss. She was worried and he could tell. "Now, do you all understand what is expected of you?" The prefects nodded. "Very well. You are excused."

The room cleared, leaving Minerva and Tom alone. Minerva overcame a moment of slight hesitation and walked swiftly towards Tom. "What did you say to the portrait last night?" she asked meaningfully.

"Why do you care to know so much?"

Minerva took a step forward. "I asked you a question, Tom."

"I asked you one as well, Minerva."

Minerva clutched her fists and sat down in the chair next to his. She leaned forward.

"Don't you think it's slightly peculiar that the night the Ravenclaw prefect goes missing, you were seen chatting with the Ravenclaw portrait?"

"Are you accusing me of attacking Smelting?" Tom asked incredulously.

"Perhaps," she replied. She shifted her eyes agitatedly. "Or at least for concealing something. You are not being very open with me, Riddle."

"Oh so it's back to surnames then, is it?"

Minerva slammed her hand on the desk. "I just want you to tell me what you said to the portrait, Tom," she yelled. "That's all. I thought you might have some insight into what happened to Smelting."

"And how will you be able to tell if I'm lying?"

"Tom-"

"No." He stood to his feet and towered over her. "If I'm so good at hiding things, how will you know I'm telling the truth?" He took a step towards her. "I could tell you that I know nothing about Smelting, but I might be lying. How will you know?"

Minerva took a deep breath. "I know you didn't attack Josiah, Tom," she said quietly. "I just want to figure this out so I have time to study for exams and we have time to work on the project over break. That's all." She tapped her fingers together. "I'm a bit on edge right now."

Tom relaxed slightly. After a few moments of silence he added, "I suppose I am too."

They both looked at the floor.

"I probably should go to class," Minerva said finally. "I'll see you tonight after dinner?"

Tom nodded. "I'll meet you in the entrance hall." She turned for the door. "Don't forget to bundle up, Minerva," he added with a slight smile. Her face brightened a little. "We wouldn't want to freeze off that pretty little nose of yours." He winked at her and she turned red before leaving the room.

Tom ran his fingers through his hair in relief. He'd almost lost it. She was suspicious and for good reason. He knew it wouldn't be long before she figured everything out. By that time, he needed her on his side. She was a powerful witch - someone he could definitely use.

He glanced out the window. The sun had disappeared and snow was beginning to fall. They were in for a long evening. He only hoped it would be long enough.

* * *

Authors note: Keep in mind that Tom's thoughts aren't very reliable. Did he lie to Avery? Did he lie to Minerva? You don't really know. Next chapter should be pretty interesting...the snowy outdoor rounds. Keep reading! 

Also, I'm reminding you now so it's fresh in your mind. Review! I have 46 hits on the last chapter after two days, so that means that 46 people have read the story all the way through with very few of them reviewing. Please review guys! I need to have your input. (Hint: press the Go button at the bottom left-hand corner.) Thank you!


	14. The Grounds  Part I

**The Grounds - Part I**

* * *

Minerva poked her head out into the hallway and found it deserted. Glancing over her shoulder, she slid down the corridor and rapped loudly on Professor Dumbledore's door. She heard rustling and it slowly peeked open. "Miss McGonagall," he said knowingly. "Won't you come in."

Minerva looked around one more time and slipped into his office. Dumbledore sat at his desk where he had been grading papers and removed his glasses. "I suppose you are wondering why I placed you with Tom Riddle."

Minerva shook her head. "I assumed it was because you believe he trusts me and that I could stop him if he did anything."

Dumbledore nodded.

"I actually was wondering what Dippet told you about Josiah's disappearance; or, more importantly, _when_ he told you."

Dumbledore replaced his glasses. "What do you mean, Miss McGonagall? He told us this morning before breakfast when Josiah was found. We learned about it right before you did."

Minerva took a deep breath and fidgeted with her wand. She was thinking very carefully about what she was going to say. "Sir, I informed the headmaster that Josiah was missing at eleven o'clock last night. He knew that Josiah had not arrived for rounds and that none of the portraits in the Ravenclaw hallway had seen him."

"What are you saying, Minerva?"

Minerva bit her lip. "Professor -" She paused. "When I talked to the portrait of Sabina the Stuttering in the Ravenclaw corridor, she said she had seen a Slytherin prefect talking to the Ravenclaw portrait. Bane, naturally, refused to confirm what he had said."

"So you think that Tom had a hand in this?"

"Well, when I mentioned the thought to Headmaster Dippet, he informed me that Tom had been with him for an hour discussing - something. He got rather short with me, actually. I don't think he was happy that I was insinuating that Tom might have done something."

Dumbledore thought for a moment. "Did you see Tom at all?"

"No. Headmaster Dippet told me to do my rounds by myself. I eventually met up with Rubeus. He walked with me for the rest of the route. We didn't see anyone."

Dumbledore stood and walked to his window. The sun was beginning to set and the snow was coming down harder. "I think we will have to wait until Josiah is well enough to be questioned. I might be able to reconstruct some of his memory. That's the only way we'll know. As far as I know, there were no witnesses." He turned to Minerva. "Do you truly believe that Tom had a part in this?"

Minerva thought quickly. "I know he is hiding something, sir." She wasn't sure if he was capable of doing something so cruel. If you had asked her two months earlier, she would have denounced him in a second; she would have accused him of taking over the world before you could say 'tyranny.' But now, after getting to know him, she couldn't picture him hurting anyone purposely - or maybe she just didn't _want _to picture him hurting someone purposely.

"Will you be alright tonight? You won't be too distracted?"

Minerva snorted a bit. "Exams for the next three days, followed by a holiday of research that we've barely even begun? Of course I'll be distracted!" She stood in front of her seat. "But I'll be okay. Tom and I are getting along much better." She did not add that she had been terrified to go near him since the night he had kissed her. She decided that mentioning that to Dumbledore wasn't the greatest idea.

Dumbledore smiled satisfactorily. "Very well. Keep alert. Send up red sparks if anything happens. Someone will undoubtedly see them."

Minerva nodded and glanced at her watch. It was nearly six and she had missed dinner. "Thank you, sir." She ducked out of the room, hoping that no one in the corridor would see her - namely Tom - and dashed up to Gryffindor tower to grab her outdoor things. On her way out the door she glanced in the mirror. Her hair was falling out slightly and her cheeks were ruddy from running. "You're hopeless, McGonagall," she sighed. "You're afraid of the stupid git. Stop caring about how you look!" The Minerva in the mirror, however, did not listen and hastily fixed her fallen bun. The clock began to ring six o'clock.

Minerva dashed out of the room with a bundle of winter clothes and ran down to the entrance hall. Tom was waiting against the door with a smirk on his face.

"Getting all done up for me again, Minerva?" he asked, pulling her thoughts back to their encounter earlier in the year. His voice was the same, but his tone was a bit softer with less malice. "Really, you shouldn't have." Minerva's face colored.

"I lost track of time," she said simply. She began the task of bundling up. It looked absolutely frigid outside.

"You are a terrible liar, Miss McGonagall. You never lose track of time. I'm beginning to think you'd marry that watch if you could." He pointed to the old watch at her wrist.

Minerva shrugged and wrapped a scarf around her neck. "At least it'd be punctual to the wedding."

Tom smiled and stepped forward to help her as she fumbled with the silver fastener on her cloak. His fingers brushed her cheek causing warmth to surge through her face. "You missed dinner," he said softly.

"I wasn't hungry," Minerva replied, pulling away. She wasn't going to let him get too close - at least not so soon.

"I looked for you and you weren't there."

"Brilliant, Mr. Riddle. You've discovered the point of missing dinner," she said sarcastically. "You can now die knowing everything in the world." She spun around and headed for the doors. Tom stepped out in front of her as he put on his gloves.

"I don't plan on dying anytime soon."

"Then be careful what you say, or you may accidentally stumble across some arsenic in your pumpkin juice."

"You are developing a most unbecoming amount of sass, Miss McGonagall. I'm not quite certain if I like it."

Minerva grinned and leaned forward. "Get used to it, Riddle. It's not going anywhere. Besides," she said pushing past him, "I learned from the best."

She pushed the heavy doors open to reveal about a half foot of snow. Tom snickered when she didn't immediately walk outside. "Are you afraid to get your feet wet?" he teased.

Minerva rolled her eyes at him. "_Thermae Pedis_," she muttered. She tapped her wand on her shoes and took a step outside. The snow surrounding her feet immediately melted. Tom folded his arms, but did the same.

The stood at the top of the steps surveying the snowy grounds and the pink sky so indicative of a blizzard. "So…" Tom rubbed his hands together. "What are we going to do for the next three hours?"

Minerva looked up at the sky as the snow began to fall harder. "Walk around the grounds, I suppose." She walked down the steps, melting the snow on the way down. "I'm sure we'll just happen to run into the person who attacked Josiah out in this blizzard and force an immediate confession." She frequently encountered problems with Dippet's reasoning, but she couldn't very well do anything about it.

Tom put his arms at his waist. "Or we could just freeze to death. I'm about halfway there already."

Minerva smiled. "I didn't think that you were planning on dying anytime soon," she said sweetly.

Tom folded his arms again. "I don't know what it is about you tonight, but I'm slowly beginning to realize that hitting a girl wouldn't be so bad."

"Oh, you're just realizing that now?"

"I've never hit you."

"You've hexed me! I think that's worse."

Tom slid his arm through hers, ignoring her struggles to get away. "Come off it Minerva. You know you love it when I hex you. You think it's charming." He paused for a few seconds. "Speaking of charming, you've said very little about that _kiss_ from the other night." He made sure to emphasize the word 'kiss' so it rang in her ear. Minerva tensed.

"W-what about it?" she stammered.

Tom pulled her along the path to the gamekeeper's hut, until they were out of immediate sight of the castle. Minerva dug into her pocket for her wand, but found that it was in the left side pocket of her robes. Her left hand, unfortunately, was enclosed in Tom's firm grasp. He brought the hand to his lips as Minerva attempted to yank it away. His grip was too tight.

"You liked it, didn't you?" he asked saucily. He brought her hand to his chest. "That's why you've been so nervous lately. You're too scared to admit that Tom Riddle kissed you and you liked it." Minerva was on the brink of becoming exceedingly frightened, but was calmed slightly by his teasing tone.

"I don't think whether I liked it or not has much relevance," she said finally. "It won't be happening again."

Tom smirked and twirled her up against a tree. "What makes you so sure, Miss McGonagall?"

Her eyes were wide with fear - or anticipation? What was going on? She stared at Tom. He was waiting for her to say something. He wasn't going to do anything she didn't want him to do; she could see it in his eyes. Her heart fluttered as he gently stroked the back of her hand. She suddenly realized what was happening; she_ wanted _him to kiss her again.

She took in his defined features, silhouetted against the darkness. His dark eyes glinted and his hair fell across his forehead in a gentle sweep. He was incredibly handsome. What had caused her sudden change of heart? Only a half hour before she had been certain he had something to do with Smelting's attack; now, she was almost certain he did not. He had something about him that made her unsure of everything she had ever known.

He tilted his head slightly as she continued deliberating. How had she - Minerva McGonagall - gotten to this point? The prefect, who had never liked, or wanted, a boy. The girl who had spent so much time creating an unapproachable exterior so that nothing could stand in the way of her schoolwork. She had prided herself on maintaining an untouchable level of reason and sensibility. Yet, Tom had undone everything - she was a wreck, and she was slowly falling for a boy she was born to hate.

Her breath quickened. "It can't happen again, Tom," she said finally.

He paused. "That doesn't mean it won't."

"I can't let it," she replied firmly.

Tom stopped and stepped back slightly. "Why not Minerva? Why can't you just give in for once? Do something that you want to do! Stop with all these silly ideals you have about life. You need to do what makes you happy."

"Structure makes me happy," she whispered. "I like time and rules and ideals."

"But why? Why can't you live a little? For once," he snapped.

Minerva bit her lip. She just couldn't let herself do something that she knew she would regret. It was completely against her nature. Tom backed up a few steps, and continued down the path away from her. He was nearing the vacant gamekeeper's hut. She thought quickly. She knew she shouldn't let him get close, but she wasn't sure if she could bear letting him walk away. She made a decision.

"Tom," she called. Her voice was muffled by the snow, but he heard her. She scurried to meet him and stopped a few inches away. "I think - I think I might need a little help."

"With what?"

"Living," she answered. A look of realization filled Tom's eyes, followed by a smirk at his lips.

He moved a step closer. "And how do you think I should go about helping you? The last time you asked, the result was not exactly what you expected."

Minerva took a deep breath and moved in another step. "Well, you said that I should do what I want."

"And what do you want, Minerva McGonagall?"

She slowly reached down and picked up his hand. "I think that maybe you should kiss me again."

"Do you want me to?"

She closed her eyes. "Yes. I believe I might." Tom reached out to cup her face in his hands. He ran his fingers down her cheek, but pulled back slightly.

"Are you sure?"

Minerva nodded. Tom leaned in, but stopped before his lips could capture hers. He froze.

"What's the matter?" Minerva asked quickly, assuming she had done something wrong. Tom ran his arm around her waist and slowly turned her around.

Minerva squinted in the dim light at what had caught his complete attention and finally saw it. Her jaw dropped and a small cry fell from her lips. She looked from Tom to the scene in front of them and then back at Tom. He drew out his wand and she slowly did the same. Something was most definitely going on at Hogwarts.

* * *

So...normally I'd feel really bad for having such a cliff hanger, but I'm pretty good about updating, so you won't have to wait long. That was the semi-romantic walk through the snow (well, as romantic as you can get with Minerva McGonagall and Tom Riddle). The next chapter will have some slightly more exciting parts to it. Also, thank you so much for the reviews - 8 last chapter! You guys are pretty great. I'll hopefully have the next chapter up in a day or two. I wonder what they saw...

Review!


	15. The Grounds Part II

**The Grounds, Part II**

* * *

Blood. For hundreds of meters all they could see was crimson against the white snow. Tom took a step forward and put a hand out to keep Minerva from following. She stood completely still.

The tainted snow melted as Tom stepped cautiously through it. Blood ran thick onto the dead grass, creating a sickening crunch with each step. Minerva took a deep breath and clutched her stomach. The air was thick with the putrid smell of death. It looked as if something big had been killed - something very big. Tom walked a bit farther and reached the gamekeeper's hut. The door was slightly ajar.

Minerva restrained herself from running forward. No one had lived in that hut for ten years. It was not only out-of-bounds, but contained several wards to keep students away. Tom walked in without a scratch. He emerged seconds later. "It's empty," he said hoarsly.

He walked around the building once. Minerva gripped her wand, waiting for someone or something to jump out of the darkness. Tom reappeared, shaking his head.

"Should I send up sparks?" Minerva asked quietly.

Tom shook his head. "Not yet. They could still be here." He pulled her off the path into the shadows. Minerva shivered and readjusted her scarf. She glanced at her watch. It was eight o'clock.

"What…who did…" she began, not knowing what to say."

Tom gripped her firmly on the shoulder. "I don't know. I didn't see a body or any sign of one having been dragged away." Minerva looked up into his eyes. He glanced at her, but switched his focus back to the snow.

"You think this…" she motioned to the sea of red "…was from a person?"  
Tom ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know," he said shortly. Minerva opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when she heard the sound of a stick cracking. They stood rooted beneath the cover of the trees.

They stood side-by-side with their wands extended. Minerva caught a glimpse of Tom's dauntless expression, but could only feel fear. It was too late to send up sparks now; they would be seen for sure before anyone could come to their aid. They could make out the sound of steps crunching against the snow. Whoever it was, they were getting closer.

Tom pushed Minerva further back beneath the trees as a tall figure in a dark cloak appeared. She shifted to keep from falling, but accidently snapped a branch beneath her foot. The figure stopped and turned in their direction. Minerva barely had time to realize what was happening, when Tom leapt from his hiding place and sent a stunner at the hooded stranger who flew backwards onto the ground.

Tom rushed forward and knelt beside the body with his wand out. The hood fell back revealing a mess of chocolate brown hair. "Marquette?"

"Felicia!" Minerva cried. She ran forward and leaned over the Hufflepuff prefect. "Ennervate."

Tom backed away and shot red sparks up into the air.

"What? Where am I?" Felicia mumbled. She looked around wildly and locked eyes with Minerva.

"You scared us," Minerva answered. "Tom stunned you. We thought you were -"

"How did I get here?"

Minerva paused. "You don't remember?"

She shook her head.

"Where's Applegate? You were supposed to be monitoring the Astronomy Tower."

Felicia sat up woozily and shook the snow out of her hair. "The last thing I remember is walking down to dinner."

Minerva tilted her head to the side. Felicia's eyes weren't focusing.

"Tom, I think she's been obliviated," Minerva whispered. He knelt down beside them and examined Felicia's confused expression.

"That, or a Confundus," he replied. "She seems pretty out of it."

"But Dippet said that Smelting's memory had been wiped too. It was probably done by the same person." She stood and helped Felicia to her feet.

Tom frowned. "You can't assume that."

"Tom! I rather think that it's fairly obvious that something is going on. Look at this." She motioned to the bloody mess in the snow. "Wouldn't you assume that whoever did this had something to do with two prefects being attacked?"

"Marquette wasn't attacked. She wandered out into the snow and I stunned her."

"She isn't remembering anything, Tom. She was hit by some kind of memory charm."

Felicia put her hand to her head. "You both know that I'm standing right here, don't you?" she asked.

Tom and Minerva ignored her. "What makes you so sure it's the same person?" Tom asked pointedly.

"Dippet thought that Josiah was attacked because he is a muggleborn. Felicia is too."

"That means nothing. Over half the people in this school are muggleborn or half-blood."

Minerva sighed. They argued so much about the most unimportant things. Josiah had been attacked, Felicia had experienced some sort of intrusion, and someone or something had lost a significant amount of blood. Those were the facts they knew and no amount of arguing was going to change their individual perceptions on the matter. "We'll see in time," she conceded.

Tom's tightened face relaxed. They heard footsteps approaching and the two lucid prefects pulled out their wands. Felicia held her head in her hands, trying to gather her thoughts. Dumbledore emerged from the brush, followed closely by Flitwick.

"Tom, what happened?" Dumbledore asked. He stopped short when he saw Felicia and the mass of blood a few meters beyond.

"Sweet Merlin," Flitwick muttered. The professors drew out their wands and scanned the perimeter. They walked around the hut, but like Tom returned empty-handed.

Dumbledore looked at the three prefects and took a deep breath. "Let's talk inside where we won't be overheard." Minerva glanced over her shoulder in paranoia. No one was there. Tom put a hand behind her back and steered her back up the path.

The group walked up to the castle in silence. Upon entering the entrance hall, Dumbledore sent Felicia to the hospital wing with Professor Flitwick and indicated for Minerva and Tom to follow him.

He stopped outside the entrance to Dippet's office. "Wait here."

Minerva and Tom sat down against the wall.

"How are you doing?" Tom asked quietly.

"I'm okay," she whispered. "I only hope everyone else is."

"You are such a Gryffindor," Tom laughed.

"Well, you are such a Slytherin," Minerva returned crossly. "You could care less what happens to anyone." Tom faced her in surprise.

"Is that what you think of me?" he asked.

Minerva glared at him. "Yes, it is. You barely reacted to Smelting's attack, you purposely badgered me about that kiss just to make me feel embarrassed, you didn't do anything to help Felicia - Tom, I'm beginning to think you actually are heartless." She rose to her feet to stand over him.

Tom looked stunned.

"So you _do_ think I hurt Smelting."

"I don't really know what to think, Tom. I'm tired of you keeping secrets from me. I'm not as idiotic as you think I am. I pick up on things!"

He stood. Minerva could tell that she had hit a sore spot. His eyes glinted with anger. "_I've_ been keeping secrets from _you_?" he yelled. "Tell me, Minerva. Why exactly did you decided to suddenly become friends with me? And why did Dumbledore create that stupid project for us to work on?"

He took a step forward and she backed up into the wall, attempting to maintain an expression of defiance. She couldn't answer. He continued.

"Why didn't you want me to look at that book? Why do you always have fear behind your eyes when we're alone together? Answer me Minerva!" He grabbed her arms and shook her firmly. "If you want answers, I get answers."

"I-I-" she began. He knew. He had to know. How could she have been so stupid? Of course he was going to figure out that it was a ploy to spy on him.

"Do you want to know what was going through my mind when you broke that twig and Marquette heard turned?"

Minerva was finally able to breath and regained some of her composure. "I suspect it was along the lines of 'oh good, maybe it'll kill McGonagall and I can run away'," Minerva spat angrily. She looked away from him.

Tom grabbed her by the arm and violently spun her around to face him. "My first thought was to keep you safe," he seethed into her ear. She let out a small gasp. He pushed her away. "You know how that makes me feel? Terrible! I'm an utter disgrace to Salazar Slytherin's name! I cared more about a Gryffindor than saving my own skin."

Minerva stared at the ground.

"Why are you so bent on ruining everything?" he asked. "Why do you have to be so bloody perceptive?"

A thought entered Minerva's mind. What was he saying? She looked at him. He was pacing about making wild gestures with his hands. He wasn't thinking.

"I have very little in this world, McGonagall, and I'm not going to lose it all because of you. Either you accept me the way I am, or I want absolutely nothing to do with you. You need to trust me. I am not going to ask you again."

Minerva refrained from mentioning that he hadn't really asked in the first place. She took a deep breath. What was she doing? How was she supposed to make a decision like that with no warning? What was he actually asking?

She studied him for a few moments. His eyes had dimmed slightly from their blazing state and he was breathing heavily. She wanted to believe him, she really did, but she wasn't sure what kind of commitment she was really making. He _had_ tried to save her life by jumping out at Felicia, even though saving wasn't really needed. Still, Dumbledore wouldn't have asked her to watch Tom if he hadn't had a reason. She bit her lip.

"Do you promise to stop keeping me in the dark?" she asked quietly.

"No. I can't promise that," he said in a low voice. "There are some things I won't be able to tell you. That doesn't mean you won't find out at some point, but not right away."

"Then how can I trust you?"

"Minerva, trust is something unconditional. If you knew everything I was doing, there would be no need to trust me."

Minerva stared at Tom.

"Will you at least swear that you had nothing to do with Josiah's attack."

"I will not. You'll just have to trust that I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't approve of."

"Tom, why are you doing this?"

He folded his arms. "Minerva, the world's pretty bleak these days. I have to know who I can trust and who trusts me. I can't have you jumping all over me every two days about some terrible thing I might have done. A few months ago we had a truce, and that was fine, but I don't think it was enough. Now, you need to make a decision."

Minerva glanced at the headmaster's entrance. She was hoping that Dumbledore would appear and she would have more time to think. "Why can't you make the decision?"

"Because I have no reason to mistrust you."

"Except for all those questions you listed off a few minutes ago."

"I don't need the answers. I just wanted to show you that you have secrets too."

He held out his hand. "Your answer, Minerva."

Minerva looked at his open hand tentatively, before taking it in her own. "I trust you Tom. I won't accuse you again."

Tom's face brightened and he pulled her close. "Good."

They stood in silence for a few minutes.

"Now where were we when we were unfortunately interrupted?" Tom asked impishly. He slid his arm around Minerva's shoulders, but she pulled away and shook her head.

"I may trust you now, but that doesn't mean I can't still be mad at you." She put her hands on her hips as he tried to grab her hand. "And it most certainly doesn't mean that I'll go head-over-heels for you either. I think we're friends now - finally."

Tom smirked. "Very well, but I don't know how long you'll be able to resist me."

"Longer than you think," she said dryly.

Flitwick hustled around the corner, but slowed when he saw them. "Have you been in to see the headmaster yet?" he asked.

They both shook their heads.

"How is Josiah doing?" Minerva asked the tiny professor.

"His memory is still gone," Flitwick replied with a small quiver, " but he seems to be doing better physically. Madame DuMedici patched him up quite nicely."

Minerva nodded in grim satisfaction. She hoped she would be able to talk with Smelting, and that was going to be a lot easier if he stayed at Hogwarts over break. With two more days of exams, she was going to have no time for interviews.

Exams. Minerva let out an audible groan.

"What is it?" Tom asked.

"We still have exams tomorrow."

Tom wrinkled his nose.

"That has already been taken care of, Miss McGonagall," said Dumbledore, walking out from behind the statue of a gargoyle. "Headmaster Dippet has canceled all exams due to recent events and will be sending students home tomorrow morning."

"What?" Tom and Minerva cried in unison.  
"The headmaster feels that it is best to clear this matter up while students are away at break," Dumbledore explained with a hint of disdain for the headmaster's decision. "They will return as normal after the holidays. I believe he does not wish to chance another attack, or the media may get involved."

"What about the project?" Minerva asked.

Dumbledore lowered his head. "I'm afraid it may have to be postponed, Miss McGonagall. The headmaster feels that all students should return home."

Tom's mouth fell open. "All students?"

"I'm very sorry Mr. Riddle. There is nothing I could say to disuade him. He seems quite firm on the matter."

"But I can't go - I've always stayed here for Christmas! Let me go talk to him." He started towards the door, but Minerva grabbed the back of his robes.

"Bad idea, Tom," she warned.

Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "I'll speak with him in the morning when he's less - emotional. Perhaps he'd make an exception provided you help in the investigation."

"Yes, I'll do whatever you want."

"Very well. Now I suggest you both get some rest." Dumbledore suddenly looked very old and tired. "Please be careful returning to your dormitories." He turned and began speaking quietly to Flitwick.

Minerva and Tom nodded and walked down the hall towards Gryffindor tower. Once they were out of sight, Minerva stopped. "Tom, I just want to let you know. If Dippet says no, you can stay with my mother and me." Tom looked at her in surprise and she lowered her eyes. "I think it'll be quite lonely without Dad around and it might be nice to have some company. We could work on the project there. We've got a big library."

Tom's lips slowly turned up into a smile. "Thank you, Minerva."

They continued walking until they reached the portrait of the fat lady. Tom grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry for the things I said earlier."

"Me too," she replied softly. "I don't think either of us are ourselves right now."

He leaned in and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she whispered.

* * *

Tom walked down to the Slytherin common room with his wand out. He wasn't taking any chances. He couldn't believe the amount of things that had transpired in one day. He grinned. He had successfully worked his way into Minerva's trust in the course of a few minutes.

He would, of course, have to be more careful now; the last two days had confirmed that. Minerva was going to stay close now. He couldn't help but smile when he thought about her. She had invited him to her home! He wasn't sure if it was the fact that the plan was working or that he seemed to be developing a true friend, but he was incredibly pleased. It would, however, set him back if he wasn't able to stay over break. He needed that time. He needed to stay on schedule. He smirked again. Maybe he could borrow Minerva's watch.

It was a time turner. He could tell. He had never seen it up close, but he could see some of the workings in it. She probably had never used it except to take extra classes here and there and study more. It could definitely be useful in the near future.

He would also need to find a way to get Avalon Figg on his side. He knew her popularity with the Gryffindors would keep them from suspecting anything. He would speak to Avery after the holidays.

Now if only Dumbledore could convince Dippet that he was a daft old fool. He didn't hold out much hope. Dumbledore seemed intent on getting the headmaster's position for himself and he needed Dippet's support for that.

Tom bypassed a few third years in the common room and entered his dormitory. He lounged back on his bed confidently. Yes. Everything was falling into place.

* * *

Author's note: That last bit from Tom's side was for Cinnamon Heart. I know you like analyzing Tom. Sorry it wasn't longer. It would have given too much away if his thoughts were throughout most of the chapter. Thank you all for the great reviews once again. You guys are wonderful. So...what's going to happen next? Will Dippet decide to let them stay or will they go to Minerva's? Has Tom even done anything bad yet? What happened to Smelting and Marquette? Just some thoughts to ponder as I wrestle with the next chapter. Review!


	16. The Upper Hand

**The Upper Hand**

* * *

"I'm sorry Mr. Riddle, but the headmaster believes the wisest course of action is to send all students home." Tom hung his head in disgust. How was it that Dippet could ruin his plans while staying completely oblivious to the true nature of the situation? He looked up at Dumbledore.

"There's nothing more to be done, sir?"

"I'm afraid not. I will have Professor Slughorn contact the orphangage -"

"No!" Tom stood to his feet and lowered his voice. He did not want the rest of the Slytherin table to hear. He walked a few steps away and Dumbledore followed. "I actually have…other plans." He glanced quickly over at the Gryffindor table.

"So you will have time to work on the alchemy project?" Dumbledore asked knowingly, pursing his lips.

Tom nodded slowly. He knew that Dumbledore did not trust him and he had hoped he wouldn't find out about Christmas break, but it was almost better this way. Now the professor would think he had nothing to hide.

Dumbledore studied him for a few moments and apparently ascertained whatever information he was looking for in Tom's eyes. He smiled slightly. "You will have the pleasure of perusing the McGonagall's rather - extensive - library. I am sure you will find it much to your satisfaction. Very well. I hope you have a safe and productive break. I shall look forward to seeing you _both_" he emphasized the word with a nod to Minerva across the room "when you return."

Tom tipped his head forward in acknowledgment. "Happy Christmas, Professor," he mumbled before walking away. He walked toward the doors, but saw the Gryffindor table out of the corner of his eye. He was almost afraid that she would rescind her invitation when faced with the reality of it. Well, he'd have to face her at some point and it might has well be sooner rather than later.

She was sitting next to Avalon Figg who was laughing loudly at something Orlando Hoff had said. He cleared his throat and walked towards them. He slid into the seat on the other side of Minerva and said in a low voice in her ear, "Can I have a word with you after breakfast?" He figured that a few hours would be enough time for her to owl her mother. The train wouldn't be leaving until the afternoon.

The Gryffindor table took immediate notice. A few people from the Hufflepuff table also seemed to pick up on something amiss. Tom was unconsciously leaning very familiarly against her arm. To the surprise of nearly everyone watching, with the exception of Avalon Figg, Minerva didn't move away; rather, her cheeks turned red and she nodded in affirmation. To the further astonishment of all viewing parties, Tom remained at her side after her answer, instead of joining his Slytherin comrades or slinking from the room.

"How is your project going?" Avalon asked happily, breaking the awkward silence that had filled the room.

"Satisfactorily," Tom replied. They hadn't worked on it in some time, but what they had done was fairly good.

"I'm so glad!" Avalon gushed. She eyed the two of them. Tom could see her flash a smile at Minerva, who sent a stern look back. He smirked.

"You seem to be a bit less on edge lately," Orlando remarked. "Although I haven't seen much of you in the last few weeks. Where exactly have you been hiding?"

"Studying," Minerva said quickly. "We have been working some, but mostly studying." "What exactly is it that you're doing?" Rab Kilgore asked warily. He eyed the Slytherin with a look of suspicion.

Minerva jumped in before Tom could answer. "A research project. Nothing more. It's a bit boring really. Not something at all that you would like," she said shortly. Tom looked at her in confusion until he noticed the caustic glare he was receiving from the Gryffindor quidditch captain. So that was it. He wasn't the only one vying for Minerva's approval. Tom laughed to himself. As if an idiotic athlete was any competition.

"I see." Rab jabbed his fork at something and continued to stare at Tom.

Minerva surveyed them both nervously and tugged slightly on Tom's sleeve. "I'm done," she said with a nod towards the door.

"Then let's go have our little _talk_," Tom said, not breaking eye contact with Rab. Minerva rose quickly and began heading for the door. Rab slammed down his glass and Tom grinned.

"See you later, Tom," Avalon called with a flutter.

He smiled at her and turned to follow Minerva from the room. She walked straight for the ground floor portrait room and waited for him to enter before closing the door tightly. She leaned up against it with a sigh. "What on earth was that all about?" she asked.

Tom drew closer. "What was what all about?"

"That thing you and Rab were doing."

"Thing?"

"With your eyes. I thought you were going to hex each other right there. What did you do to him?"

"Come now, Minerva. This is only the first full day you've had to trust me and you're already accusing me? I'm hurt." He gave her a look of mock disappointment.

"I'm not accusing you of anything. Did he do something to you?"

Was she seriously this thick? He eyed her furrowed brow with confusion. Apparently she was. "Minerva, I don't know if you've ever heard of it, but there's this thing called jealousy -"

"What?"

"Jealousy, envy, covetousness…"

"Yes, I know what it is," she snapped. "What does that have to do with you and Kilgore?"

Tom smiled with satisfaction. She was still on a last name basis with the quidditch captain. "I have the feeling Mr. Kilgore is a bit put out that you haven't spent much time with him lately because you've been spending it with me."

Minerva stared at him, dumbfounded. "You think Rab is jealous of you? Because of me?"

"It's a rather fundamental male reaction. We tend to be a bit possessive at times."

"Well, it's too bad that neither of you possess what you think you do," she said sharply. Tom looked at her in surprise. She took a step away from him and continued. "And if I ever hear of such nonsense again, you'll not only not possess me but you'll also be lacking a few necessary appendages needed to possess anyone else." Touché. One point for Minerva. So maybe she wasn't completely thick.

"Point noted," Tom muttered. "Now what I really wanted to speak to you about was -"

"Dumbledore has already spoken to me," she interrupted without looking at him. "I owled my mother this morning and I've received a reply saying that she would love to have a guest. You will meet me in the entrance hall at one-thirty. We'll floo to my house from the Hogsmeade station at two o'clock this afternoon. My mother will have tea set out when we get there."

No. She most definitely wasn't thick. Maybe slightly oblivious when it came to relationships, but that was her one weakness. She knew exactly what to do to get to him.

"So I guess you've figured it all out, then," said Tom. He shoved his hands in his pockets feeling fairly useless.

She smiled at him and he caught a glimpse of her glimmering eyes. Why did she always have to do that when he was frustrated? It was so much easier to just grumble and get it over with in his usual manner.

"I guess so."

"So why didn't you just say that at the table?"

"Did you really want the entire school knowing you were spending your break with Miss Know-it-All?" She put her hands on her hips. "Because the second Avalon heard that you were, she would have told it to anyone and everyone who would listen." Tom grimaced at the thought. "I'm going to ignore the fact that you said nothing to deny that you do indeed refer to me as Miss Know-it-All and take that as a no."

She walked past him toward the door. "Besides," she said turning to face him, "She'll be staying with us for the New Year and it will be so much more fun to see everyone's reaction _after_ we get back. Avalon will have the entire spring term to tell stories." Point two for Minerva. She strode from the room, shutting the door behind her.

Tom stood alone in the room in wonder. Well, that was a change. Perhaps she was feeling embarrassed for their argument the night before and felt the need to make up for it by making him feel insignificant. At least she was utterly Slytherin about it. That was some consolation.

He had just been bested by a Gryffindor. Twice - in about two minutes time. He got the feeling that the break wasn't going to be much better. She would be home and he would be incredibly out of his element. She would have the upper hand and a mother to back her up. He groaned slightly. How had he gotten himself into this? He was spending Christmas with two schedule-crazed women with hundreds of years of pure blood to make them as stubborn as they could possibly be. "Happy Christmas to Tom," he mumbled and swept from the room.

He grumbled angrily on his way down to gather his things. He had never been incredibly fond of the Christmas holidays, mostly due to the fact that classes were suspended for two weeks. He flicked his wand lazily and his clothes shot out of their drawers into an open trunk. It was going to be two weeks of Minerva - two weeks of intellectual sparring escalating into open quarreling descending back to muttered apologies and more intellectual sparring. It was the routine he was becoming so accustomed to; it was hard to imagine anything else.

He put out his hand and reduced the size of the trunk to fit in his pocket. A few of his fellow roommates began trickling in to pack and he quickly ducked from the room. He did not want to have to explain to Avery where he was going. He was a aware of the plans, but would not understand them.

Tom left the dungeons and took the stairs up to the second floor to make sure things were in order. He made his way quickly down the hallway. It was empty. Nearly everyone was packing. He pushed the door open to the girl's restroom. He had almost gotten to the sink when he heard something a small sniffle. He paused.

"Go away Olive," a muffled voice cried from inside one of the stalls. "I don't care if I'm not any good at anything. At least I have…" the sound of someone blowing their nose echoed through the room. Tom grimaced. "Personality."

Tom began slowly inching backwards. He was in no mood to explain to Myrtle why he was in the girl's lavatory and then listen to her sob story about whatever Olive Hornby said to her. Just as he had about reached the door, it swung open into him. He quickly ducked behind it and waited for the person to come through. She entered and he slipped out before being seen. Running down the hallway, he ran straight into a smiling Orlando Hoff.

"Tom! Just the person I was looking for."

Tom raised his eyebrows. "Yes?" he asked expectantly.

"Oh it's nothing serious. I just wanted to apologize for Rab earlier. I think he was just a little jealous of the thing you have going with Minerva."

Tom studied him carefully. "And that is?" he asked dryly. He was not accustomed to having people speak to him about his own business or apologize for others. It was all very Gryffindor.

Orlando seemed a bit perplexed. "You mean there isn't anything going on between the two of you? I find that rather hard to believe. I haven't seen her around anywhere in the last two weeks. I figured she was with you."

"If she had been, do you suppose I would tarnish her glowing reputation by speaking about it without her permission? I have no doubt that my mere presence has done her enough damage socially within her house. I cannot imagine the repercussions should she ever be truly implicated in some kind of relationship with me."

Orlando gaped slightly, but regained his smile. "Well, honestly Tom, it wouldn't be the first time."

Tom grimaced. He had forgotten about Avalon's ridiculous assumption earlier in the year that had spawned so many discussions.

"True, but I have no desire for the gossip of fools to resurface."

Orlando continued to grin. "You talk just like her. I always thought she was the only one."

"Just because Minerva and I share some semblance of an intelligence does not make us soul mates," he said shortly.

"Minerva, is it?" Orlando asked slyly.

"Yes," Tom snapped. "At some point when working on something closely with someone else one finds it necessary to depart from the formalities of last names. Nothing else has changed." He was annoyed. He didn't need the whole bloody school watching the two of them and Orlando tended to be able to bring the whole school to attention..

"We'll see then, won't we?" Orlando tipped his head and walked away. "Oh, and Avalon and I are looking forward to seeing you at New Year's," he said with a smirk. Tom stopped cold. "We're pretty sure you'll love Mrs. McGonagall's rhubarb pie." He walked away with a slight spring in his step leaving Tom fuming.

That miserable, scheming, know-it-all wench. She had already told them. Of course she had; they were her best friends. It was probably Gryffindor loyalty or some such nonsense. He was beyond annoyed now. He scowled, knowing she was probably off laughing at him somewhere. On top of everything she knew that he was going to have to be nice to her for two weeks. That meant no retaliation, no confrontation, and no emancipation from her evil, feminine contrivances. She held the power; she had made absolutely sure of that. Tom shoved his hands in his pockets and strode towards the entrance hall, knowing that her passive aggressive victorious gloating would be unavoidable. Sure enough, she was standing near the entrance sporting a sickeningly saccharine smile. Bloody Gryffindors.

* * *

Author's note: I hope you guys liked that one. I was kind of tired of Tom always having the upper hand and I knew he'd been infuriated if he realized that Minerva had some kind of power over him (he hasn't really realized that she has power over him anyway). This will probably be my last update in a while. Deathly Hallows comes out in a little over twenty-four hours and a day after that I'm going out of town for a week. I hope this chapter is enough to hold you guys over. You'll have to wait to see how their holiday is until I get back. Thanks for your reviews! Keep at it! 


	17. The Family

So...it's been a while. I hope this chapter is good enough for all those of you who have been waiting forever for me to update. I'll try to finish this story by the end of the summer so you don't have to remain in suspense again. It's not a very exciting chapter, but the next one should be okay when they get back to researching. Hope you enjoy! Please review!

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**The Family**

* * *

"I rather think 'extensive' was a bit of an understatement," Tom whispered under his breath as he stepped into the McGonagall's library. He knew from the moment Minerva pushed open the thick, oak doors that all was forgiven from earlier in the day. The room was simply magnificent. It was three stories, with different levels connected by spiral staircases of marble and silver. Minerva practically flounced into the room and lifted her hands proudly.

"See? We should have more than enough material to continue working."

Tom looked around dumbfounded. He had known the McGonagall's were wealthy, but not to this extent. The marble fireplace they had flooed into moments before had been a tip-off to the extent of their means, but he had been unsure until stepping into the library.

He walked a bit further into the room and reached for the first volume of an encyclopedia. He hesitated, feeling awkwardly out of place in his surroundings.

"Go ahead, Tom. I know you're dying to explore," Minerva grinned. "You have permission to look at anything you want, and that includes the rest of the estate as well. I might even be persuaded to give you a tour after tea."

Estate. She lived on an estate. Why had no one mentioned this to him before?

Tom glanced over his shoulder at her. She looked as happy as he had seen her in a long time. He gave her a slight smile, causing her cheeks to color. He turned back and smirked to himself, glad to have gained back at least some of the upper hand. He strolled contentedly through the aisles, stopping every so often to browse through the different sections.

"Who catalogued everything?" he asked curiously. Minerva appeared at his right side.

"I did," she replied simply.

Tom stared at her incredulously. "Are you serious? There must be one hundred thousand books here!"

Minerva smirked. "Three-hundred seventy-eight thousand, six-hundred and nineteen, to be precise."

Tom slid his hand into hers. "And you always are precise," he remarked fondly. "What system did you use?"

"The same as the Ministry Archives. It was easier because a lot of the books had already been labeled. My father has been given quite a few duplicate copies by the archivist over the years."

"I must admit that I'm impressed."

"I'm shocked," she teased. "I thought it took a lot more to impress Mr. Tom Riddle."

"Well, I find that it's exceedingly easy to become impressed with a person who's made such an impression on you in the first place." He grinned and looked down at her, holding her hand firmly beneath his own.

Minerva shifted her feet and returned his gaze. He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I really am grateful for the invitation to stay," he said quietly. "Professor Dumbledore was going to have Slughorn call the orphanage."

"I'm glad you could come," she began tentatively. "For...personal reasons as well as the project."

"Oh? What sort of _personal_ reasons?"

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "The obvious ones of course, and I'm not saying any more so don't even try to play that game with me again."

"Believe me, Miss McGonagall, I wouldn't dream of it."

They stood perfectly still staring into each others eyes. Tom couldn't help but think how perfectly they fit together. The fact that they had sustained a conversation about library cataloguing for more than a few minutes was enough to attest to their suitability for one another. If only she could be trusted...if only she would understand...

The voice of someone clearing their throat brought them back to reality.

They both whirled around and Minerva let out a small squeal. "Apollo!" She ran and threw her arms around a tall, dark-haired young man in dark dress robes, who spun her around in a circle. "I didn't think you were going to be here until New Years. Mother said you had too much work to do."

"Maybe I meant to surprise you, little sister," he smiled, giving her a big kiss on the cheek.

Tom swallowed. Great. Now he was going to have competition from her older brother.

"How long are you here?"

"Just today and tomorrow, but I should be back again for Christmas."

"I'm just so glad to see you! What a wonderful surprise!"

Minerva hugged him again and slid to the floor.

He put his arm around her shoulders and glanced up at Tom. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend, or should I just assume by the way you two were looking at each other when I came in that I'm about to meet my future brother-in-law?"

This time, Minerva and Tom both blushed, and Minerva ran over to lead Tom back to her brother. "Tom, this is my brother Apollo. Apollo, this is my_ friend_ Tom Riddle. Tom and I are working on a school project together for Professor Dumbledore."

"Must be _quite_ the project," Apollo teased.

Minerva didn't pick up on his sarcasm and continued, "It is. I'm afraid it's going to take a good deal of time this break."

Apollo ignored her and turned to Tom. "You'll have to forgive my sweet sister, Tom. She knows little of the world of wit."

"Tell me about it," he replied with a smile.

"I like this guy, Min," Apollo said with a nod. "You should have brought him around a long time ago."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Is it safe to assume that Mother's waiting tea on us?"

"She's in the sun room."

Minerva walked to the doorway and looked expectedly back at the two young men. "Well? Are you two coming or not?"

"Just give us a moment. I'd like to have a few words with your friend Tom." Minerva's eyes widened slightly and she shot Tom an apologetic look before slipping out the door. Tom took a deep breath and turned to face her brother. The older man had him by his neck against a bookshelf within two seconds.

Pain shot through Tom's spine as he slammed against the wooden frame of the bookshelf. A few volumes shook loose and fell to the floor.

"I just want to make sure you realize who you're dealing with," Apollo growled, reproach replacing his previously congenial expression. "I have no reason to doubt your intentions towards my sister now, but I swear if you do anything to hurt her..."

"I understand," Tom choked.

"She's the only sister I have, and I would never let anything happen to her..."

"Neither would I, but..."

"And don't think I won't find out what you're up to if you're up to something. I work for the International Ministry. I have ways of finding things out. So don't even think about trying anything if you aren't going to follow through."

"I would never."

Apollo loosed his grip and let the boy breathe. Tom straightened his tie and swallowed. "Thank you," he said calmly. "You must know I hold you in very high regard for your concern for your sister, and I assure you, I have no plans to hurt her anytime in the near future." He huffed. It was true - to a point.

"Good." Apollo readjusted his robes, looking rather sheepish. "I'm sorry I roughed you up a bit. But when I saw you and Minnie standing so close, I was overcome by this overwhelming feeling of..."

"Protectiveness. I completely understand. If I had a sister. I would feel the same way."

"It's just with my father missing, and everything happening in London, I've just been..."

"Worried. I have too. You have nothing to apologize for."

Normally Tom would have been furious. To be honest, he _was_ furious. It was only a matter of controlling his intense anger to further his cause. He normally would have wrestled his assailant to the ground before he could say "wandless magic", but this man needed to be his ally. He needed her brother to like him, trust him, and possibly even recommend him. Yes, Apollo would live to see another day.

"Come on," Apollo urged, patting Tom on the back, his demeanor entirely changed. "Let's go introduce you to Mother. I suppose she's the one you'll really have to worry about. She was a champion dueler when she was younger."

Tom closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. Maybe the library didn't quite make up for all this after all.

* * *

Minerva closed the door behind Tom and her brother and took a deep breath. Hopefully he would still be talking to her when it was all over. Apollo tended to be fairly overprotective and the fact that he had found them in as compromising an embrace she had ever been seen in wasn't going to help Tom at all. And then there was Mother...

"Minerva!" a melodic voice called from the floor below. Minerva scurried down the stairs to the sun room and paused at the door. Her mother was sitting near the windows holding a cup of tea. Her graying hair was swept back in its usual style, and she wore a pair of elegant blue dress robes. Minerva smiled and ran to her side.

"Hello Mum," she greeted happily kissing her mother on the cheek. The older woman turned and set down her cup of tea.

"Minerva! I've been calling you for five minutes. Have you only just arrived?"

Minerva sat down in the seat opposite her and smiled. "It's nice to see you too."

Berenice McGonagall sighed. "I'm sorry dearest. I'm glad to have you home. I've just been so preoccupied with everything these days..." She stared gloomily out the window and took a sip of coffee.

"I know. I'm worried about him too."

Berenice nodded sadly.

"Have you heard anything from the ministry?" Minerva asked. "Has Apollo heard anything?"

"Nothing of consequence. He seems to have just – disappeared."

"I'm sure he's okay," Minerva reassured her, although her common sense dictated otherwise. "Maybe he's just been confounded or detained or..."

"Killed."

"Well there is that possibility, I suppose."

Berenice stared at her coffee cup. Minerva swallowed, wondering if she should say what was really on her mind. Her mother was delicate in many ways. Her father had such an overpowering personality it was hard for anyone, especially someone at home with him all day, to handle his constant critique. He was part of the reason Minerva lived her life as "by the book" as she could.

Minerva glanced at her mother. She had been quite a beauty in her youth. She had been a brilliant professor, one of the finest duelers in the United Kingdom, and she had given it all up on an auror named Mordred McGonagall. She had been perfectly content to stay home with two children, to dote upon her husband, to live a life of solitude, and now what did she have? A past full of potential and a future full of unfulfilled dreams.

Minerva was worried about her mother. She knew she had to say something.

"Would it really be so bad?" she asked tentatively.

Berenice didn't look at her.

"Mum. He was so horrible those last few months. The things he said – he really hurt you. Maybe it's better this way. Maybe we can all get back to the way things used to be. Maybe..."

"Was your friend unable to come along? I had Dolores make up a room for him." Minerva let out a long breath. Her mother always changed the subject before saying anything against her husband. It just wasn't fair that she was continuing to suffer even after he was gone.

Minerva knew enough not to force the issue and replied, "He's here. He's just having a_ talk _with Apollo in the library."

"Oh dear. Do you think we should send someone after him?"

Minerva smiled wistfully. "He can take care of himself."

Berenice studied her daughter's face. "You really like this boy, don't you?"

Minerva's face fell back into its normal stern expression. "He has become a good friend, I suppose, but we have strictly a working relationship."

"I see..."

"Mother!"

"Fighting already I see," Apollo noted as he walked into the room followed closely by Tom. Minerva glanced at him quickly. He didn't seem any worse for the wear. He winked at her and took a seat beside her on the couch.

"Of course not darling," Berenice replied with a laugh. "We were just teasing each other as usual." She looked up at Tom with a smile. "And this must be Tom."

"Indeed, ma'am," he answered charmingly. He reached out and grasped her hand. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Minerva has told me a great deal about you. She admires you very much."

"I don't know about that," Berenice said dryly with a glance at her daughter, "but it's a pleasure to meet you all the same. How do you like your tea, Tom?"

"Two lumps of sugar, please."

"Cream?"

"No thank you, ma'am."

The four of them settled down into amiable chatter until the grandfather clock near the doorway struck four o'clock. Minerva and Tom excused themselves to get Tom settled in before dinner, and Apollo left on a quick errand.

* * *

As soon as they were out of hearing distance, Minerva pulled Tom into an empty closet – well, it was the size of a room, but held closet-like things nonetheless.

Tom eyed her slyly. "Why Minerva, I had no idea you were..."

"Shut it, Tom. Are you okay?" she asked with concern. He studied her face and brushed a wayward piece of hair out of her eyes. Her cheeks turned pink at the familiarity of his action. She was becoming increasingly easier to manipulate; however, he was having an increasingly harder time taking pleasure in manipulating her. Perhaps his "war" against her had reached its end. Perhaps it was time to give in to Minerva McGonagall. She would be a valuable asset. She could help him do research and help protect his findings and...Well, the only real problem was Dumbledore. How close was she to the old professor? She denied any sort of relationship with the man, but if she was informing on Tom's activities then...Oh sod it. A relationship with her was never going to work...but still...

"Tom, seriously. Did he hurt you at all? He's just really overprotective sometimes and he loves me a lot and I'm really sorry..."

"Shh." Tom put a finger to her lips. "I'm fine. In fact, I rather like the bloke. He reminds me of myself."

Minerva breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, I'm so glad. I was afraid he'd scare you away."

"Tom Riddle is not easily scared away, Miss McGonagall. You ought to know that by now."

Minerva smiled at him shyly. "What made you change your mind about calling me Miss McGonagall? I rather like it."

Tom paused thoughtfully. "I guess I think it suits you."

"I must say I agree."

He leaned in and pressed a light kiss against her lips. "Now that we have that taken care of, I'd like my tour of the house, Miss McGonagall."

"I'd be delighted, Mr. Riddle."


	18. The Winner

I thought it would be best to post this as soon as I finished it to force myself to start on the next chapter. It's not particularly long, but I like it a lot. They are both so ridiculously disfunctional. Please review!

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**The Winner**

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"I found a few things that might help," a muffled voice said from behind a precariously placed pile of books. Minerva slammed the books down on the table. "Some of these are more about immortality in general, but they ought to provide some sort of background." Tom glanced up from the book he was reading and nodded distractedly. In the three days he had been at the McGonagall's they had gotten very little accomplished. The first day had been filled with settling in, eating dinner in the enormous dining room, and chatting over coffee before bed. The second day, Apollo had insisted they go to London with him so he could show them where he worked and take them shopping for Christmas presents in Diagon Alley. Tom found it all very frustrating.

Minerva sat down across from him and opened a book. "I owled Professor Dumbledore to let him know we got here safely. I asked him how everything was going at the castle as well."

Tom nodded but didn't look up.

"I do hope everything's going all right. I wonder how Smelting's doing. He was still pretty shaken up when we left."

Tom kept his nose in his book. He was waiting to see how long it would take until she got frustrated with him and started yelling. It had been far to long since they'd had a reasonable fight. He didn't want her to think he was going too soft. A few seconds passed. She didn't seem to notice that he was ignoring her, and set off to work. Tom sighed. He would have to instigate an argument later.

They worked in silence for a number of hours. Every so often, one of them would mutter to themselves or laugh at something in the book they were reading, but for the most part they remained quiet. At promptly twelve o'clock, a house elf rushed in and bowed to Minerva.

"Lunch is served, Miss Minerva," she squeaked.

Minerva looked up from her book and pursed her lips. "Would you have it brought up here?" she asked without looking at Tom for input. "We'd really rather not be disrupted now that we have the motivation to get this done."

"Yes, Miss Minerva."

"And Dolores?" The house elf stopped mid-step. "Send my apologies to Mother." The house elf shuddered a little, but nodded and scampered off.

Tom flipped back and forth through the index and bibliography of the book he was studying, pretending he had not witnessed the conversation. He was not terribly fond of house elves, having had very little contact with them over the years. He was especially not fond of ones that insisted on folding all of his things into perfect little piles. He'd been about to kick one the day before, until Minerva stopped him with a wary glance.

He flipped a page. Suddenly, his face lit up. "Minerva," he whispered excitedly.

Minerva pretended to ignore him like he had ignored her all morning.

"Minnie seriously, you need to take a look at this."

Minerva threw him an angry look, but rose and slid into the chair beside him. He pointed to a citation on the page and she shrugged.

"I don't really see how that helps us any. It just cites one of the books we used. I don't even remember what that one was about."

Tom waved her off agitatedly. "No, don't you remember? _Vivo Vixi Victum_. That's the one with the – the one you almost made me put back."

Minerva put her hands on her hips. "That book had nothing to do with the Philosopher's Stone, Tom. It was just full of dark magic. I can't believe you even remember all that." She shivered. "I tried to put it all out of my mind."

Tom wasn't listening. "Wait here," he said shortly. He stood up and ran out of the library to his room. He rummaged through his bag, throwing things left and right. _If only those stupid house elves hadn't gone through everything_, he muttered to himself. Finally, he found what he was looking for. He held up a brown package and tapped his wand against it. It swelled back to its original size.

"_Vivo Vixi Victum_," he breathed, running his hand across the cover. So this _was_ it. The book he had been looking for. The other book had finally confirmed it.

He laughed to himself. To think, he had started with a plan so small. Heir of Slytherin! It sounded almost laughable now. He was going to be so much more than the Heir of Slytherin. He was going to be the greatest wizard of all time. And perfect Minerva McGonagall was going to help him achieve preeminence.

Tom jogged back downstairs, without the book, and reentered the library to find Minerva hovering over the table with her back to the door. She jumped when he entered and knocked over her massive tower of books. "Don't do that!" she hissed. "You about scared me half to – what are you so happy about?"

"Nothing," he said saucily with a smirk. He had made a decision. The war was over. She had lost and he had won. She now belonged to him. He had nothing to lose. Minerva watched him in utter bewilderment as he swaggered towards her and took her in his arms. Without warning, he took her lips in his own. She gasped at the sudden contact and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. He could feel her knees buckle beneath her, so he backed her forcefully into the table and leaned on top of her as she fell backwards. Books went scattering to the floor.

"Tom...we shouldn't...Mother...could...walk in..." she gasped in spurts.

Tom ran his hands along her neck and down her shoulders. "Let her," he growled. He kissed the soft spot beneath her ear and heard her whimper slightly and relax into his arms. She felt so good in his arms, under his power.

So this was what power felt like. It was intoxicating, exhilarating. He wanted more.

"Minerva," he whispered silkily into her ear.

"What?" she breathed.

Just as he was about to speak, the doors burst open as Dolores returned with lunch. Minerva was still pinned against the table with Tom gripping her by the waist. She attempted to squirm out of his grasp, but he held her tight. The elf curtsied with wide eyes and set the lunch tray on the table before disappearing with a loud crack.

Tom grasped Minerva's hands and helped her up. She was still breathing heavily and her face was flushed. "She'll tell Mother if she asks," Minerva said quietly.

"Would that really be so bad?" Tom asked, kissing the top of her head. He froze, contemplating his next move. Should he? What would Avery and Lestrange say? This wouldn't be so easy to hide. He looked down at Minerva. Her hair was falling out of its bun, her glasses were slightly askew, and her blouse had worked its way out of her skirt. Yes, it was worth it.

"Perhaps we should make this official," he said.

"You mean..."

"I think we should date, officially."

"You would be seen with me? In public?" Minerva asked incredulously. "What would your friends say? They'd think you'd gone absolutely mad."

"I'm starting to think I have," he said with a laugh. He ran his hand through his jet black hair contemplatively.

"What about Dumbledore?"

"What about him? Is your lover going to be upset with you?" Minerva's eyes flared, but she didn't retaliate.

"He gave us a project to work on. I thought we had decided he wasn't playing matchmaker. What if he thinks that we didn't give the write-up the attention it deserves?"

"Dumbledore is the last thing you should be worrying about," Tom replied._ Unless you're his spy. Then he's going to be _very_ upset with you._

"Still Tom, this is a rather big decision, don't you think?"

_Leave it to me to ask Minerva bloody McGonagall out. She would, of course, overanalyze every sodding detail._ This was going to be harder than he thought.

He gripped her arms tightly and leaned down to her level. "Minerva, I understand if you need some time to think about this. I just wanted to make sure you know where I stand."

Minerva bit her lip. "Does this have anything to do with what my brother said to you the other day?"

"Maybe a little," Tom replied truthfully, although the talk had more infuriated him than intimidated him. "But I was going to ask you anyway."

Minerva swallowed. "Well, then you might as well go ahead and ask me."

"I did."

"You didn't really."

"I said I thought we should make it official."

"Just state it in the form of a question, Tom. I'd rather not look back on this day and remember you ordering me to date you."

Tom hesitated. It wasn't exactly the easiest thing for him to say. It sounded so – adolescent. Minerva looked up at him expectantly. "Will you..." he ran his hands through his hair one more time in embarrassment. "Will you be my girlfriend, Minerva?" he finished lamely.

"I'll have to take it under consideration."

"You what?" he cried incredulously.

"I need to think it over a bit. I'll let you know what I decide."

"Oh thanks. That's very considerate of you," he spat sarcastically.

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "Just be happy I didn't turn you down on the spot."

They sat back down to continue working while Tom tried not to say anything that was going to make the situation worse. He slammed a book up onto its spine.

"Have you decided yet?"

"I told you I'd take it under consideration. I don't really appreciate that you just assumed I would say yes."

"I'm sorry, Minerva," he bristled. "I suppose I thought the fact that you allowed me to stick my tongue down your throat a few minutes ago was enough to ensure a 'yes'."

"Do you have to put it so vulgarly? Besides, I didn't ask you to kiss me."

"But you let me! And you kissed back!"

"Are we really arguing about this, Tom?"

"Yes, Minerva. I think we are!"

"Fine! You go ahead and be juvenile. I'm getting back to work."

"Good. You might as well get something done after chatting away all morning."

"And just what is that supposed to mean, Tom Riddle?" She drew her wand. He had apparently hit a soft spot.

"It means, you hardly left me alone all morning. Another reason I thought my question wouldn't be so unreasonable. I thought you were smitten with me."

"Smitten?" Her eyes raged and she pointed her wand towards his chest. "For your information, Minerva McGonagall has not and will not be smitten with anyone, ever. I am not one of your stupid, seductive, simpering Slytherin conquests, Riddle. I have complete control over my emotions."

"I can see that," he said dryly, pushing her wand to the side.

"You should," she snapped. "If you think I'm going to fall for your ridiculous pick-up lines and swoon the moment you whisper 'sweet nothings' in my ear you're sorely mistaken. I will not be manipulated!"

Tom couldn't help but admire her. He loved seeing her angry. Her hair was absolutely wild now. Her eyes were on fire with passion. She looked like a siren ready to strike.

"Very well, Minerva. I will refrain from whispering any 'sweet nothings' if they are not going to have the desired effect."

Tension seemed to flow out of Minerva as she realized he was not going to fight back anymore.

"Thank you," she said tersely. "I would be most obliged."

They worked in an awkward silence for a few minutes. Tom finally reached across the table and placed his hand gently upon hers.

"Just let me know soon, okay."

She sighed and slowly pulled her hand away. "Okay."

Minerva went back to her book and he went back to his. So his plans weren't working out quite as perfectly as he'd thought. Oh well. At least he'd fulfilled his argument quota for the week.

* * *

Minerva peeked over the top of her book to find Tom staring at her. She swallowed and looked back down. He knew. She was sure of it. She had never been particularly good at being evasive.

She shifted awkwardly back and forth in her chair. It was only three in the afternoon – definitely too early to leave to change for dinner. Her fingers twitched. She needed to get out of there. Soon.

He suspected something. She was sure of it. She swallowed again and wiped away a bead of sweat from her brow. _Minerva, you better cut all this out or he'll _know_ something's up,_ she chided herself.

The sun cast a long beam of light across the desk. She pretended it was shining in her eyes and got up to close the curtains. She could feel his eyes following her. He was angry; that was exceedingly apparent. She sat back down and crossed her legs agitatedly.

"Will you sit still already?" Tom snapped. "You're making me nervous."

"I'm having a hard time concentrating, though I haven't the slightest idea why that would be," she replied pointedly.

Tom snapped his book shut, causing her to jump.

"I vote we call it a day then, Miss McGonagall."

"I agree," she spat.

They tidied up the mess a little and left the room without saying a word. Tom was staying in the west wing, and Minerva's room was on the north side of the house, so as soon as she was out of sight she took off in a dead sprint. She didn't stop running until she was safely in her room, door locked, windows closed.

She had it. She had finally found her opening. Granted, Dumbledore probably wouldn't have agreed with her methods of espionage, but she had succeeded nonetheless. The kiss had done it. The kiss had thrown him off guard enough for her to grab her prize.

She hadn't been sure if she was going to be able to go through with it. She'd wrestled with it the entire time he had been out of the room. But she had taken a chance in the end, and she'd conquered. A smile of triumph crossed her lips as she flopped backwards onto her bed. Breathing heavily from anticipation and exhaustion, she pulled out a tattered green notebook from the pocket of her robes and slowly flipped to the first page.


	19. The Talk

Yes, it's short. Yes, it's not that exciting. Yes, it's been a while. Yes, that's an understatement. I'm sorry guys. I'm a jerk. I really am. I'm going to try to finish this monster, but I make no promises. You may thank Shingie for my motivation to continue.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all.

* * *

Minerva was mad. Confused, yes, but mostly mad. Of all the nerve - expecting her to say yes just because he was Tom Sodding Riddle.

"Who does he think he is?" she fumed. "Kissing a girl in her own house, even after her brother made it abundantly clear that...oh! That beast!" She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Her black cat jumped up on the bed and laid down across her stomach. She stroked its head distractedly.

"Just when I finally start to get somewhere with Dumbledore's plans, he has to go and spoil it by being...him! Well, now what am I supposed to do?"

She covered her eyes with the palms of her hands. "If I say no, he'll get mad a leave. And then where will I be? But if I say yes...what if I say yes? What should I do?"

She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands and tried to concentrate on reading through the journal. That was where the confusion came into made absolutely no sense. For the most part, it was a collection of random snippets from books, even some poetry, that seemed to have no congruent theme. There were a few notes from the research they were doing on the philosopher's stone, but other than that, the entries were a complete muddle.

"What are you doing, Tom?" she sighed, flipping a page. She came to a passage that she recognized from Hogwarts: A History about Salazar Slytherin and his infamous departure from the school. She scanned it quickly while her mind wandered.

"Being a complete louse," she grumbled. "Getting me all strung up over a stupid kiss and stupid question. A question that I had to coerce out of him in the first place! Insufferable."

She turned another page to an article from the Quibbler about strange chicken stranglings in the Black Forest.

"And what is all of this rubbish? Is he starting a bloody scrapbook of random..."

Someone knocked on the door. Minerva's eyes widened and she dove out of bed to hide the book. "Who is it?" she called nervously.

"Your mother. May I come in?"

Minerva sighed in relief and unlatched the heavy oak door. "Of course." She closed the door after her mother and motioned for her to have a seat.

"We missed you at dinner," Berenice said.

Minerva pulled back the sleeves of her dressing gown to look at her watch. "Oh, I'm sorry Mum. I was reading and I got distracted and I must have lost track of time." _As if she'll believe that._

True to form, Berenice pursed her lips, unconvinced.

"So this isn't about your fight with Tom?" she asked.

Minerva closed her eyes. "How did you know about that?"

Berenice smiled slightly. "I know a good deal more about what goes on around here than you might think." She folded her hands in her lap. "And Tom was rather listless during the meal. He seems upset."

"Yes, well it serves him right. He ought to be the one upset for a change."

"Minerva, really."

"Mum, you don't understand. He's a right git sometimes - most of the time. And he gets me so worked up, sometimes I just think I'm going to..."

"Explode?"

"Fall in love with him." Minerva groaned and buried her face in a large, squashy pillow. "I actually said it, didn't I?"

"You did indeed. But I expected as much. He seems to be a nice boy."

"He certainly does seem it."

"But?"

"Professor Dumbledore doesn't trust him."

"Do you trust him?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. I do, but then he does things that make him seem so...untrustworthy."

"Such as?"

Minerva's thoughts drifted to the previous semester. Outdoor rounds, Smelting's disappearance, trust arguments. "Nothing particular. I just get this feeling sometimes."

Berenice brushed a curl out of her daughter's eyes. "Well, I wouldn't put too much stock in feelings, dear." She rose with a small smirk. "Unless you're thinking about mastering in Divination."

"Ugh. That's not the least bit amusing. Not at all."

"Well, then I'd give him a chance. I certainly like him so far."

"Really?"

"Really."

Minerva slipped under her covers and allowed her mother to give her a kiss on the forehead. "Perhaps I'll talk with him in the morning."

Berenice smiled and pulled the covers up over Minerva's shoulders. She extinguished the lights with her wand and slipped out the door.

* * *

"You're looking exceptionally well this morning," Apollo noted as Minerva took her seat next to him at breakfast. She glanced up at Tom, who raised one eyebrow curiously.

She grabbed a mug and began pouring herself a cup of coffee. She had made her decision, and she was determined to be happy with it.

"Christmas spirit," she lied.

Apollo snorted. "That would be the day."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" she questioned.

"It means, I've never seen you excited about a holiday in my life. Especially Christmas. All that mistletoe, cheer, parties - face it Min, it's not exactly 'your thing'." He looked pointedly at Tom. "Something else is definitely up."

Berenice surveyed her children over the top of her gold-rimmed spectacles.

Minerva glared at her brother. "Well, Tom and I have been getting a lot done with our research." _How much does he know? He looks really irritated. I hope he doesn't take it upon himself to rid the world of a Riddle._

"So I've heard," Apollo said wryly.

Minerva glanced again at Tom. He seemed oblivious to her trickery from the day before, and almost happy for once.

"I believe we're close to a breakthrough," she continued.

Tom sent her a questioning look and she met his stare with raised eyebrows.

"Very close," he added.

Berenice smiled "That sounds wonderful. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will be thrilled."

"What exactly did you say you were working on?" Apollo asked suspiciously.

"Oh, just a little extra credit project," Minerva said quickly. "You know me."

Apollo bit his lower lip. "I see."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

Minerva ran her hand agitatedly up and down her arm. "Well, Tom and I had better start back where we left off. We've got a lot to get done before the holiday." She stood with her cup of coffee. Tom remained seated, staring at her with a look of bewilderment. "Right Tom?" she grunted.

He took his cue and rose quickly. "Yes of course. We'd best be off. Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. McGonagall," he said with a nod.

"You're very welcome, Tom."

He bowed slightly in her direction. "Apollo," he acknowledged politely, then followed Minerva hastily out of the room.

They rounded the corner and Tom began hissing questions. "What in Merlin's name was that all about?"

"My brother doesn't trust you," she whispered.

"Why the bloody hell not?"

"How should I know?"

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see soon enough."

"This is ridiculous. I didn't even get to finish my muffin. And I don't want to work this morning."

"You sound like such a child, Tom."

"We shouldn't have left. It was rude, maybe not for you, but I'm a guest."

"I just didn't want Apollo to hex you into the ground before midday, though Merlin knows_ I_ want to," she muttered. He hastened down the hallway after her. "And I needed to speak to you." She passed a large suit of armor and then yanked Tom into a room on the right, closing the door tightly behind them.

"Merlin's beard, Minerva! Will you stop doing that? I have enough to worry about right now with this rather stressful visit with your family, your brother out to get me, house elves folding my bloody underwear, and this ridiculous project breathing down my neck. I don't need some know-it-all witch..."

His tirade was cut short with a pair of lips over his. Minerva smiled at his surprised sudden intake of breath and took the opportunity to back him forcefully into the wall.

He recovered swiftly from his astonishment and flipped around so that she was trapped between the wall and a wardrobe.

"Tom," she gasped between kisses. He began to make his way down her neck to her shoulders as his hands roved down her back.

"Yes?" he whispered huskily.

"Yes." She ran her fingers through his hair, groaning as he placed a line of light kisses along her collarbone.

"Yes?" He stopped kissing her and took a step back. He surveyed her calculatingly. He seemed to hesitate.

Minerva grabbed his tie and pulled him back into a long kiss. "Yes," she said firmly.

* * *

They snogged for some time before Tom was able to pry himself away and lead her to a seat by the window. He looked around the room for the first time. They were in some sort of conservatory. He sat beside her and held her hand in both of his. Snow was beginning to fall outside.

Tom ran one of his long fingers down her cheek. She blushed, but leaned in to his touch. What had happened to her? More importantly, what was happening to him?

"So what you're saying is, you'll go steady with me?" he breathed.

"Yes," Minerva replied with a smile.

"You'll be my girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"So you'll go to Hogsmeade with me and hold my hand under the table at meals and snog in the broom closet when we're on rounds?"

"Yes, Tom."

He grinned and pulled her into his arms, leaning back against the window. He kissed the top of her silky hair and set his chin on top of her head. This was perfect. Everything was going to plan. He slid his hand into the pocket of his robes to give his journal a reassuring pat. His eyes widened slightly and his breath tensed. It wasn't there.

_You lovesick moron. You must have forgotten to put it in there this morning. You were too busy making sure your hair looked presentable for _her.

Tom shifted anxiously. Surely it would have been in the pocket from the night before. He hadn't written in it. He hadn't even taken it out. He'd been too agitated after the argument. _It must have fallen on the floor when I undressed. That's it. It's in my room. I hope one of those sodding elves doesn't touch it._

Minerva nuzzled closer to him and he smoothed back her black hair gently. "I'm really happy, Tom," she sighed. His throat tightened.

"Me too," he whispered before kissing her once more. The journal could wait a few more hours.


End file.
